Shattered Dreams
by Dracoqueen22
Summary: COMPLETE! What was once a hope for peace becomes a determination to prevent the utter destruction of the home they had already fought once to save. CidVin, RenoReeve, TsengSeph, ZackElena Language, Lime, MF, MM, Angst, Sequel, Character Death
1. Sad Grey Eyes

This is the sequel to 'Shattered Ice', so read that first.

**Chapter 1: Sad Grey Eyes**

He looked up slowly, grey eyes casting out over the sky lit up with the brilliant colors of the sunset. The normally blue above had become awash with purples, pinks, and oranges, making it a scene fit for any painting. The man wiped his forehead with one bronze hand, rubbing dirt across his skin, succeeding in only removing a bit of sweat. At least, it was quitting time.

As if summoned to mind, the words he wanted to hear suddenly rang out across the garden.

"Dinner is ready, son."

He smiled to himself. Granny had told him this morning that she was going to cook his favorite, meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It had been one of the first bits of solid food he could consume when they first found him six months before.

"Be there in a minute," he called back.

The grey-haired woman in the doorway smiled and waved her hand in dismissal before disappearing back inside the house.

Shaking his head, he returned to the weed below him that was giving him trouble. It seemed the roots were deeper than he had thought. Digging his fingers into the ground, he relied on their strength to pull up the roots. With a squelch, the stubborn plant burst free, spraying him with more bits of soil and plant debris.

He spat. Some of the dirt had flown onto his lips. This time he was more than glad that he had started to pull up his longer-than-necessary ebony hair. It was in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck.

The man again surveyed his work, satisfied that this portion of the vegetable garden was now weed-free. He put his hands on the ground, bracing himself so that he could stand. He was tall and lithe, dressed all in black. When they found him he was dressed like that, and he really didn't feel comfortable in anything else.

He glanced once more towards the sky, taking in the beautiful colors of the setting sun, appreciating the wonders of life. For some reason, he found that he could be thankful for things more than the people around him. It was like he had come close to losing it all.

However, he really couldn't say because he didn't remember. He knew nothing of himself before he met Granny and Gramps.

Not even his own name…

The dark-haired man with granite eyes turned away from the sunset and scooped up his grey cloak, which matched his eyes perfectly, from where he had neatly piled it on the ground and headed for the door to an awaiting meatloaf dinner.

He wondered what was beyond the mountains and the sea, what life out there was like. Who he once was and why he was, were all questions he consistently asked himself.

They had found him, washed up on the beach, bleeding and unconscious. Granny and Gramps had thought he was someone close to them, but, when they turned him over, they realized they were wrong.

He supposed that they pitied him once they understood he was actually alive. He could never repay them for the love and care they had given him.

They didn't even shudder at his odd appearance at the time, taking him at face value. His scarred left hand, glowing grey eyes, pale ivory skin, which later tanned under the strength of the sun, and raven tresses that were so odd did not startle them one bit.

They even stood up for him against the townspeople, who caused a stir. They were yelling something about demons and monsters. Granny and Gramps just pushed them all away and eventually won the townspeople to their side.

And now, six months later, he knew everyone in the tiny town, struggling to rebuild after some war. Apparently this mega corporation had been the cause of most of it. But the man-with-no-name could get no more information. It was like there was an unspoken code among them to never tell of the events.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the warm kitchen that smelled faintly of fresh-baked bread. He walked silently over to the sink where he began to wash up, removing all traces of dirt from his face and hands.

"Did you finish the weeding, son?" questioned Gramps. He sat at the table, smoking on a pipe as he worked on some type of electrical device.

The man called son shook his head. "Just the tomatoes and the squash. The gysahl weeds are stubborn this season. I will get the pumpkins and the peppers tomorrow."

Granny tut-tutted as she placed the last of the food on the table, snatching whatever Gramps was fixing from his hand angrily. "You shouldn't work yourself too hard, Za-… child, you have just regained most of your strength."

The man shook his head. "You may call me that if you wish. I do not mind. I only wish that I really could be the man you want me to be. Besides, I certainly have enough strength to pull weeds, even if I am not much use for anything else."

"Nonsense, we will call you by your proper name," insisted Gramps, sharing a friendly glare with his wife. He wasn't done fixing the thing yet.

"But I do not know my name," muttered the man quietly. "I would rather be called something than nothing."

"Fine then, Zack it is," said Granny firmly. "Now, come sit at the table, I think you've cleaned up enough."

"Yes, ma'am." He meandered over to the table, draping his heavily clasped cloak on the back of the rather ordinary and plain wooden chair.

The table was laden with food: the meatloaf, some mashed potatoes and even some of the freshly picked vegetables from the garden, steamed and drizzled with cheese. It was old fashioned home cooking at its finest.

"That man was here again, Sarah," commented Gramps.

"What man?" asked Granny, frowning slightly.

"The pilot, you know, Highwind, looking for his friend Valentine," muttered Gramps. "I ran into him over at Alan's."

Zack felt a stirring in his heart at the two names of the two men but couldn't understand why. Neither of them seemed at all familiar to him. He frowned as he thought about it.

"Something wrong, Zack?" asked Gramps.

"No." The dark-haired man shook his head. "What were you saying about Highwind?"

"Oh, right." Gramps settled firmly into his seat, smiling up at Granny as she served up the mashed potatoes. "Poor man, he insists that the Valentine fellow is not dead. I think they were more than friends, but he doesn't admit to more."

"And the town is sure that this person hasn't come through here?" asked Granny, frowning slightly. She remembered painfully the search for her own flesh and blood and was empathetic with Highwind.

Gramps shook his head. "No. Apparently Valentine was rather unique looking. Kind of hard to miss you know. Crimson eyes and cloak, perpetually pale skin, tall with a golden claw, I know I'd remember him."

"I hope he finds him," Zack said, albeit a bit glumly. For a minute he got his hopes up that perhaps this Highwind was looking for him. But no, the only thing he had in common with Valentine was that he was tall.

"As do we," nodded Granny. "I know the pain of losing a loved one." A brief silence fell over the dinner table.

"This tastes great, sweetheart," said Gramps, sharing a smile with his wife. They were the perfect example of true love and sent a pang through Zack's heart. He wanted to experience that feeling. But there was also this odd sensation within him that spoke volumes about how he already had.

He dreamed at night, usually in blurred images. Sometimes they were in color, sometimes black and white. He couldn't tell whether or not they were memories as he had nothing to base the truth off of. Usually the dreams were flashes of images and often times they turned to nightmares.

He saw glowing crimson eyes and talons dripping with blood. He heard the voice of a young girl, and someone making vague references to feelings of utmost guilt. But the most reoccurring scene was one of blue eyes and the smell of cigarette smoke. Those were the memories that appeared nearly every night and even haunted his daytime hours.

"Zack, honey, would you pass the salt and pepper?" asked Granny, pulling him out of his musings.

He shook his head to clear his mind. "Uh… sure." He reached for the shakers next to him and handed them to the grey-haired elderly woman next to him. Her amber eyes sparkled happily.

"Are you alright?" asked Gramps. "You seem a bit out of it."

"Oh?" questioned Zack, picking up his fork to return to the bounty of food on his plate. "I hadn't realized…"

"Are you sleeping alright?" asked Granny.

Zack sighed and didn't say anything.

"Is it the dreams again?"

The dark-haired younger man laid down his fork, the food feeling like a leaden weight in his stomach. "I wish I could understand them. Or even see more than just the flashes. Maybe then I would know who I was."

Granny reached out and took his scarred hand in hers, rubbing a thumb over the raised flesh soothingly. "You shouldn't rush things, honey. They will come to you in time."

"I can't help but feel a burden on you two," muttered Zack. He noticed the look on their faces and quickly elaborated. "You both have been nothing but kind to me, and believe me; I wish I was who you want to see. But there is also this part of me that wants to know who I am. Though with the types of dreams I have, I can't really understand why."

Gramps opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when a knocking came on their front door. The three exchanged looks. Granny's face drew into a frown.

"Who would come calling? I hope everything's alright." She wiped her face with her napkin before placing it on the table and going to answer the door.

Gramps and Zack looked at each other over the table as if one of the two men had the answers. They turned to see Granny opening the door and gesturing for someone to enter. The two men couldn't take their eyes off of the door, as curious as two mice in a new abode.

"Is Raven here?" questioned the pretty blonde that had entered. She was dressed warmly as it had gotten quite chilly once the sun went down. The gentle blue of her coat matched her eyes beautifully and she was pleasant on the eyes.

Granny cocked an eye. "Who?"

The female blushed. "I am sorry. That is what we call him since he can't remember his own name."

"Oh," answered the elder woman in a knowing tone. She grinned broadly. "Of course he is, come in and make yourself at home. We were sitting at dinner, would you like to join?"

The blonde blushed again. "I am sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Annalee." She tugged on her gloves nervously as the two men watched from behind the corner in the kitchen. Her eyes took in the wonder of being inside Raven's house, and she could barely concentrate on the words of the woman in front of her.

Granny smiled warmly. "Annalee, you say? That is a pretty name. You must be Caren's daughter."

"Yes, ma'am," nodded the blonde female. "Father needs Raven's help. He has heard of his skill with firearms and wonders if Raven would like a job even if it doesn't last that long."

Granny patted the girl on the arm and steered her towards a chair where she encouraged Annalee to take a seat. "I will send him in. Tell your father I said hello."

Annalee returned her gentle smile and reclined in a comfortable couch. Granny left the living room and went into the dining room where the two men were sitting at the table, looking as if they hadn't moved at all and effectively pretending that they had neither seen nor heard what had been happening.

"Zack, honey, Caren's daughter is here with a job for you."

"Me?" questioned the dark-haired male, his grey eyes wide.

"Good man that Caren," inputted Gramps. "Can fix just about anything."

"Unlike someone we know," Granny said eyeing her husband affectionately. She settled back into her seat before turning her gaze back onto the stunned, wide-eyed younger male before you. "Don't keep her waiting, honey. She came here to speak to you."

Zack nodded slowly and wiped off his face with his napkin though there was really no need. He got up from the table and headed into the living room, missing the shared glance between his two caretakers.

"Annalee?" Zack called out slowly as he stepped into the front room.

The pretty blond jumped up from the couch, fumbling a bit with her clothes as she blushed furiously. The dark-haired man was just so handsome that she found she lost her tongue when confronted by his quiet presence.

"Oh Raven… uh… I mean… Zack," she mumbled, stumbling over the unfamiliar name.

"Its okay, you can call me Raven, if you want," he responded, bringing up a hand to stop her. He gestured towards the couch, indicating that she should sit again.

"I can't really stay. Mother has dinner on the table even now, but Father asked that I come ask you first before he called Gared over in Junon."

Zack nodded slowly, taking in her appearance. She had kept her coat and gloves on, not really intending to remain. "What does Caren need?" questioned the dark-haired man smoothly.

Annalee blushed. "He recently procured some rather old weapons in disrepair, guns mostly, and was wondering if you would come have a look at them."

An excited look appeared on the grey-eyed man's face, lighting up his rather perpetually saddened expression. "Do you know what type or what year?" If there was one thing that Zack enjoyed although he couldn't remember why, it was guns. He had a knack for fixing them and firing them as well. His accuracy was uncanny.

Annalee smiled at his exuberance. "No, I am sorry. I am pleased that you are interested. Shall I tell father that you will come take a look at them?"

Zack nodded excitedly. "Yes, do so. I am free tomorrow well actually, mostly anytime…" he trailed off, not sure of what else to say.

Annalee laughed. "I will tell him you said that." She paused then appeared to draw a deep breath as if prepared to say something that might frighten him.

"There was another reason I came."

Zack stared at her a bit startled. "Oh? And what was that?"

"W… would you care to join me for dinner?" asked the blushing blonde.

The dark-haired man was startled. No one in town had shown him any interest before and to be honest, he hadn't really thought about it. Annalee was pretty; he gave her that much, but, for some reason, to say yes to her felt like a betrayal to his old self, whoever that was. Like there was someone else he knew he should be with but just didn't recognize them for who they were.

"It's quite all right," Annalee stammered. "I understand if you are not interested."

She turned to leave and it was then that Zack realized he had taken too long to respond.

"No, wait," he spoke hurriedly. The blonde female stopped and turned back towards him, a hopeful expression on her face.

"Tomorrow perhaps? At Aga's Diner? We could discuss what your father wants of me and…" Well, he wasn't sure what else, but he knew by the lighting up of her eyes that he had spoken the right thing.

"At sunset then?" she asked him excitedly. "I can meet you here and then afterwards you can meet father?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes, that would be fine." But that didn't stop the feeling that weighed heavily in his heart, like he had chosen wrong or was about to make a mistake.

"Good… that is good," repeated Annalee, breathing a sigh of relief.

The two stared at each for a moment, a bit awkwardly. Zack shifted his feet, and Annalee smiled nervously.

"Well, uh, I'd better be going," she said slowly. "I am sure father and mother are waiting so they can start dinner."

The dark-haired man led her to the door and opened it for her. "Have a good evening, Annalee," he said politely as she moved slowly across the threshold.

"Pleasant evening, Zack," she responded with a blush. "I will see you tomorrow.

He waved at her then shut the door as she walked down the front path and took a right, heading for her home just down the street. That was the benefit of living in a small town… most everything was just a few minutes walk away.

The door closed with an audible click, and the dark-haired man turned to find both Granny and Gramps standing behind him, grinning expectantly. He startled for a moment, not expecting the two to be standing so close.

Granny had a rather large smile on her face and was clutching Gramps' hand as though he were a lifeline. "So, what did she say?"

"As if you didn't know," responded Zack airily. "I knew you two were spying."

Gramps elbowed his wife lovingly and rolled his eyes. "She made me listen. I was trying to enjoy my dinner in peace."

"Don't listen to the old man. He was just as curious as I was," teased the elderly lady. She turned her twinkling gaze on to her adopted son. "So, do you like her?"

Zack shrugged, his merry expression faltering. "I suppose. I don't entirely know her too well…"

Gramps did not miss the shadow that had passed over the man's grey eyes. "I am sensing that there is a but somewhere in that sentence."

The dark-haired man sighed and moved to collapse on the couch, staring aimlessly into the fire. The elderly couple he had come to cherish joined him in the sitting room and lowered themselves into their respective chairs.

"I just can't help this feeling that I belong somewhere else," expressed Zack. "I felt a stab of betrayal in my heart when I told her yes. As if there were someone else my affections belonged to. And yet my memory remains as empty as ever."

"That is understandable, son," responded Gramps. He pulled out his pipe and began to light it, the familiar smell of tobacco comforting to Zack for a reason he did not comprehend. "Your mind may not remember anything, but your subconscious, feelings and the heart, probably do."

"But don't believe that you can't move on either," added in Granny. "You deserve happiness as much as the next person. It doesn't matter whether or not you know who you were before, not when you can move on, and hopefully start a new life."

"But what do I do if my memories return?" persisted the grey-eyed man. "These are the questions that haunt me day by day. What if I make a new life with someone, then I remember my old love and all the feelings return?"

"That is something that you should deal with when the time comes," suggested Gramps softly. He turned his soft blue gaze on to the man he had come to love as the son he assumed he had lost so long ago. "There is no need to hide from the future for fear of the past. Your old love would understand that. Anyone who truly loved you would understand that."

Zack smiled then, small but it managed to hide a bit of the pain that had ghosted over his granite eyes. "You are both so wise in your years. I hope that when I age and have children of my own, I can be as wise to them as you have been to me."

Granny stood and walked over to her adopted son, giving him a swift and heartfelt hug. "You will always be a child of mine, despite the circumstances." She held him close for a moment longer before releasing him and heading towards the bedrooms. "I am going to sleep for the night. Leave the dishes on the table; I will get them in the morning."

Gramps stood up as well, content on following his wife to sleep. He placed a gentle and fatherly hand on Zack's shoulder's and winked at him. He didn't think it necessary to reiterate what his wife had said when he knew that the younger man already understood his feelings. After a moment's pause, Gramps left Zack in the living room and followed his wife to the bedroom.

"Don't stay up too late now," called out the older man gamely as he disappeared down the hall.

Zack could feel his heart swell with warmth at the feelings that the couple had produced in him. They were two honest and good people, truly worthy of all the happiness in the world. He could never quite thank them for all they had done for him. And to accept him as their own? That was the greatest honor.

He had a place of belonging now… a home. And with Annalee, perhaps he would have a future as well.

He might not know his name or his origins or any of his memories but perhaps they were right. He needed to move on and hope for a future and stop dwelling on the past. He would live as Zack and make a life for himself.

And if his memories ever returned… well… he would deal with them as they came.

With that decision, firmly implanted in his mind, Zack ignored the crying of his heart and stared into the dancing flames, envisioning a future that could be his if he only tried.

-----

Kind of a slow start but I wanted to introduce this person. It was meant to be just a three page prologue, but sneaky little Annalee had to make her presence known early. Damn that girl…

I'm hoping to see a bit more reviews for this story so please don't disappoint...


	2. Broken Highwind

**Thanks to Sorceress Fujin for reviewing! I'm so glad you like it!**

**Chapter 2: Broken Highwind**

"It's been six months, Cid. You cannot keep doing this to yourself," Reeve urged quietly over the PHS. He had originally called the pilot to tell him about another job but thought better of it when he had heard the defeated tone in the blond's voice.

"Don't tell me that you think he is dead?" the pilot rasped angrily. "Have you given up as well?"

The executive sighed. "That is not what I meant and you know it, Cid. I want to find him as much as you do. He was my friend, too."

"Then why don't you start acting like one instead of telling me what to do."

"I was merely suggesting that you take a break for once. You need a vacation, even if it's only for a few days. You sound tired, and I know you haven't been sleeping or eating properly…" Reeve trailed off, realizing how much like the parent he hadn't wanted to be just yet that sounded.

He covered the phone with his hand and mouthed a thank you to his secretary. She had just brought in the quarterly financial reports for ShinRa that month. The executive had been keeping a strict eye on the bank roll. She smiled softly at him and excused herself.

"I am fine," interrupted Cid harshly. He puffed on his cigarette and paced back in forth in the control room to the bridge as he conversed with Reeve on his own PHS. The executive himself was back at ShinRa's newest headquarters in Midgar… or what was left of the town anyways.

"Just a vacation," the dark-haired man urged once more. "I am not suggesting that you stop searching. Just take care of yourself… or we're going to lose you, too."

"Maybe that would be better," murmured the pilot beneath his breath, thinking that the executive wouldn't be able to hear him. He was wrong, but Reeve chose not to voice that.

"Leave the company in Archer's hands for a day or two. Go to Costa del Sol or Cosmo Canyon or even Gold Saucer…"

Cid stiffened. "No! I don't need a vacation!" He almost yelled that last in a strained tone that indicated he had been pushed too far, and Reeve internally winced. He had said the wrong thing yet again.

"Okay, fine. Don't take a vacation. But you know that the kids at the Orphanage want to see you. They like it when you come to visit."

Cid rubbed his forehead angrily with a finger, feeling the tension headache that was beginning to build yet again. It seemed that had been happening lately. "Look, Reeve, wasn't there a reason you called?"

The ex-executive sighed and didn't speak for a moment. The pilot could hear the rustling of papers as Reeve found the documents he was looking for. "Yes. Godo has an order of something; he doesn't specify what, that he needs flown from Junon to Wutai. He has asked for express."

"Tell him I will pick it up in a few hours, and he can have it by sundown," responded the pilot curtly. "And remind him that express is double the usual price."

"I will," affirmed Reeve. "Now that business is done are you sure that-"

"Reeve…" warned the pilot. He didn't want to hear another lecture. That pressure between his temples was growing. Don't get him wrong, Reeve was one of his best friends, but the executive just didn't understand. He couldn't. He had his reason standing beside him, probably right at that very moment in fact.

"I'm sorry," said the executive apologetically. "Look, I've another call coming in, and it might be the one I've been waiting on all day. I will call you later about the wedding, alright?"

"Yeah, sure," murmured Cid in response. "Later." He didn't even wait for the executive to say anything else before he pressed the button and ended the call.

The pilot sighed and pressed one hand to his temple as he slipped the phone back into the case clipped to his belt. He tried to rub his aching forehead and found that it helped his headache only marginally.

"Cid?"

The pilot couldn't help but sigh. He cracked open one eye and saw that Archer was standing not too far off from him, looking every bit the worried co-owner of Highwind Enterprises.

"Is everything okay?" Kyle asked in another worried tone. After the battle six months ago, when everyone's life began to go on and move forward, it was Archer who had come to Cid with the idea to start a delivery service. With all the rebuilding being done, a steady airship carrier would be a worthy investment. Especially since the Highwind was the only decent airship. Now, the two both co-owned the company though the pilot was had more interest in it than Kyle simply because the airship belonged to him, and he was "The Captain".

"Yeah," Cid answered slowly, making sure not to put any other emotion in his tone that might cause the former ShinRa employee to go running to his new master, Reeve. The pilot had long suspected that Archer was also a spy for his dear dark-haired friend. How else would Reeve know that Cid wasn't looking well?

"Once we drop off the lumber at Fort Condor we have to head for Junon. Godo has another special order for us."

Archer nodded, making a mental note to inform the pilot of their new destination. "Was that all Reeve had to say?"

Cid winced but nodded slowly. The pressure in his head was building and he suddenly desired to go lay down. "Don't forget to question the Head at Condor. I am going to go take a nap or something." He made forward as if to move past the jade-eyed man but Archer reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

Cid felt so thin that it scared Kyle. The blond had always been a voracious eater when he wasn't smoking, and though he wasn't fat, he was always stout and muscular. But the past six months and his new lifestyle hadn't been kind to him. Reeve was right. Something had to be done. "Are you sure everything is okay?" asked Archer again, looking down into Cid's dull and lifeless eyes.

The pilot jerked his arm free from his friend's grasp. "I said I was fine!" he snapped angrily. "Why don't you all quit telling me how I need to live and do something useful with what lives you have?" With that said, the blond stormed off heading for his room.

He left a confused and saddened Archer behind him.

Cid wanted to curse as he stormed down the hallway towards his room. Crew members were wise enough to keep out of his way, most of them used to him by now. It seemed everyone on the airship knew what had happened even if the rest of the world didn't.

Most of the inhabitants of Gaia knew about Meteor and knew about ShinRa but knew nothing of the events in the crater. In fact, most attributed their salvation to ShinRa because of where the confrontation between the fiery rock and Holy took place. This was fine with Cid. No one needed to know of his mistakes, and he needed no one to remind him of what he had lost. He knew that the executive meant well and didn't know what Gold Saucer held for him and why he could never… never go back there again. He was a bit ashamed of his behavior but too lost in his headache to even think about starting a new conversation to apologize.

In truth, the past six months had not been kind to the once seemingly happy pilot. While it seemed everyone else had their reason to go on, their reason to be glad for the safety of the world and everyone in it, Cid found that all he had was a purpose. He would find Vincent… even if it killed him. Without the ex-Turk, there was nothing for him in the world. He refused to believe the dark-haired man was dead and would not settle for other companionship.

He had had dreams. Of rebuilding the rocket and flying to the stars, exploring other worlds, maybe walking on the moon. He had once thought of designing another airship and building one that was even faster and smoother than the Highwind. He had even dreamed of settling down with his lover in a quiet town, accepting the position of Mayor that had been offered to him and maybe adopting a couple of the kids at the Orphanage. But all of those dreams included the ex-Turk being at his side. He didn't want to do any of it alone, and couldn't even comprehend doing it with anyone but the dark-haired man.

But Reeve was right… it was slowly killing him. He knew that Reeve didn't know everything that was going on but he had so many things on target.

Cid hadn't had a decent nights sleep in nearly five months, ever since the doctor took him off the sedatives. He kept seeing that night in his dreams… tasted the blood that had splashed onto his face in echoes of grim macabre and felt the helplessness repeatedly. He knew that he was only torturing himself but felt somehow that he deserved what he got. His logic was twisted, even he understood that, but it was something to cling to.

He hadn't yet decided whether or not the good memories were inspiring or only made things worse. They tended to remind him of what he didn't have… That first time in Gold Saucer or their reconciliation on the Highwind and then the stolen moments in Wutai. (1) Neither would he ever forget the night Vincent had trusted him enough to be seme. It was their last time together before Sephiroth.

Cid wanted to curse himself for not saying what he should have. At least then the ex-Turk would have known as he battled in Chaos' form. He might have tried harder or something…

The pilot sighed as he passed by the room that had been locked with a distinct 'No Trespassing' sign in bright letters on the door. It had been padlocked as well, and no one was allowed in there. Only Cid himself had the key, and he hadn't opened it either. That was Vincent's room when they had all been on the airship, and the blond wasn't going to allow anyone else in there. To do so would be like admitting the ex-Turk was gone, and he wasn't going to allow himself that yet. Vincent wouldn't have given up, and Cid was determined not to either.

His head throbbed yet again and Cid automatically drew a cigarette from the pack in his back pocket. Despite Vincent's suggestion, the pilot couldn't help but return to his old habit with a vengeance. His appearance had changed among other things. He no longer wore the goggles or the scarf or the blue jacket and gloves. He kept his attire to a simple pair of blue jeans and a shirt whose color changed as frequently as he remembered to change the item itself. Depending on his mood, of course. His heavy boots clomped loudly down the tiled hallway, echoing against the empty metal walls.

Perhaps Reeve was right. He really ought to go see the orphans again. They always managed to lift his spirits. They had such great outlooks on life, although they had lost everyone they loved and had nothing left. The pilot should learn from the little ones but found that he just couldn't. That would be like admitting Vince was gone, and Cid wasn't prepared to deal with that yet.

Finally, the pilot found himself outside his room. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his key. He had taken to locking the room. He didn't like people wandering in there and discovering how messy it was. He hadn't cared to clean up since… since then.

He pushed open the door, threw his keys to the table near the door and flipped on the light. He tried not to notice the mess around him as he stumbled to his bed, vaguely tripping over an empty bottle of what was once scotch. His head was pounding in his skull.

The blond stumbled upon the bed, that heavy feeling on his heart finding its way home again. It seemed every time he tried to relax or find some sort of calmness, the memories would return as would the pain.

Cid squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe evenly. He willed himself to try not to feel the pain in either his chest or his head. As always, it was harder than it should have been.

----

Back in ShinRa's newest headquarters in the slums of Old Midgar, Reeve sighed as he hung up the phone, a bit saddened by the pilot's abrupt dismissal. He tapped his fingers exhaustively against the desk top and contemplated that he would have to call Godo now and inform him of the Captain's decision.

A pair of strong hands grasped his shoulders and began to rub. The dark-haired man lolled his head back and relaxed into the touch. He looked up into a pair of aquamarine eyes and found his worries beginning to fade away. Reno always managed to do that to him with just a look. He loved the Turk so much that he could scarcely imagine what Cid was going through. He would have been devastated.

"I don't know what to do," Reeve admitted quietly as he shut his eyes and thought about his friend's pain. Vincent didn't deserve to die, and the pilot certainly did not deserve to be left alone as he had. The blond was worthy of happiness and so much more.

"Maybe there's nothing you can do," Reno responded softly. He rubbed his hands over his lover's shoulders and down his back, trying to remind himself of how it felt to be wrapped in the executive's arms. It had been a while since they had found the time to be together.

"He's my friend, and I can't help but feel like I should do something."

"The only thing we can do is find Vincent, yo."

"If he hasn't what makes you think we can?" scoffed Reeve disbelievingly. He felt warm arms wrap around him and he collapsed gratefully into the comforting touch. A pair of warm lips pressed against his neck and eased his tensions away.

"Maybe it's time we showed him our discovery?"

Reeve stiffened in the red-head's arms. "What good would that do?"

Reno shrugged. "It might help him think he has a reason to live. It might give him more hope."

"So he can work himself until he dies? I don't think so."

Reno sighed as he nibbled on the executive's earlobe. "You haven't been doing so well yourself, yo. Taking on everyone's problems onto your shoulders, convinced that you can fix everything and everyone on your own. Cid is a grown man, he can handle himself. It is not for you to decide or choose for him. Neither is it your fault."

"I never said-"

"But you thought it, yo," Reno interrupted. He gripped the back of Reeve's chair and spun the executive to face him. He lowered his body until the two could look eye to eye, hands planted on either side of the executive's body. "You're not helping either by running yourself ragged. What good will it do for everyone else, if you cause yourself to have a nervous breakdown?"

Reeve sighed and fought the urge to look away. He didn't want to admit it, but his lover was right. Ever since ShinRa had become his company, he had done everything in his power to destroy the Mega Corporation and use its money and influence to fix what had been destroyed by Rufus and his family. He was determined to run the company to the ground with every last penny. It was the least that ShinRa could do for all the lives it had ruined.

"I only wish I could get Cid to see that," Reeve mumbled. He grabbed Reno and pulled the red-haired man into his arms. The Turk settled himself on the chair until he was lightly straddling the dark-haired man and allowed the executive to embrace him.

"Trust me on this. Cid needs to see what they found in Cosmo Canyon. After the crater, everyone had a place to go… or even a purpose. Even you returned to what you know best." Reno gestured towards the desk and the pile of electronics waiting to be fixed. "But Cid won't be happy until he sees Vincent again. You aren't a soldier, didn't begin in the army like us, you wouldn't understand, yo."

Reeve sighed heavily. "Not this again." It was the same argument and defense Reno had used before. However, the Turk always seemed to forget that before the dark-haired man was an executive, he was in the army. "I was in intelligence, you know."

"Right," agreed Reno. "Behind the scenes, doing sideline work. How long did you stay in that before they picked you up for smarter things? There's your answer. You've never been a grunt."

"Neither have you."

"But I killed for a living and have seen my share of violence. You forget who I am."

The executive sighed and leaned back in the chair, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling. "Must you always bring that up? What does the past matter?"

"It is you who refuses to see the truth," Reno insisted.

What had started as a simple discussion into how to help their friend had turned into a full blown argument.

"You are just been unreasonably stubborn," Reeve grumbled.

Reno sighed and blew air out of his mouth forcefully. "Tulips or Lilies, yo?"

The executive blinked and stared at the red-head stupidly. What in the hell did flowers have to do with anything. "What?"

"Elena… she was waiting on line three when you got off the phone with Cid," the red-head clarified. He leaned off to the side so Reeve could reach the telephone and connect the still blinking line. The executive cursed quietly, angry at himself for making his friend wait so long and slightly agitated with Reno.

"I'm sorry, 'Lena. I forgot that you were waiting."

Reno was sitting close enough that he could hear their conversation and his body became tighter and tighter as he heard Reeve respond as predictably as he knew the older man would.

"What? Flowers?"

"Yes, flowers, Reeve. For your wedding?" came Elena's response. Ever since Reno had proposed, it became Elena's obsession to plan the perfect wedding for the two of them. After all, the executive was a big name in the world now and only the largest, most extravagant wedding would do.

The dark-haired man groaned. "I don't really care, 'Lena. Why don't you pick something," Reeve responded agitatedly.

Reno shook his head and unwrapped his arms from the executive as he slid off the chair. The amber-eyed man shot him a glance. Elena's voice faded to the background.

"Okay, but-"

"It's just flowers," Reeve said quietly, confused by his lover's actions.

"Just flowers?" demanded Reno angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned as he glared at the executive. "Right. Like it was just the cake and just the colors and just the location and just the ring and just-"

"I can't be expected to choose every little detail," snapped the executive before Reno could continue to list everything that came to his mind.

Elena had quieted on the phone. Neither man noticed, too intent in their discussion to pay any attention to her.

"Right," sneered the red-head. "Not while you have a company to run, Cid to watch over, and many strangers to help out. I suppose some of us just fall down the ladder when it comes to importance."

"Reno…" began Reeve but was interrupted when his personal PHS rang. He had changed the ring tone not long ago to something more businesslike, that of Beethoven's 5th symphony. He checked the screen and saw that it was Kyle, which meant that the green-eyed man probably had something to report about Cid. Great.

The two men stared at the ringing PHS in Reeve's hand even as there came a knock on the executive's office door.

"Ya betta ansa that," said Reno angrily. He moved towards the door. " 'N Elena still on da phone wonderin' bout whatever flowers you whatever bout, yo."

"Why are you acting so childish?" Reeve snapped, his hands tightening in their grips upon the two communication devices. He could tell that the Turk was furious because Reno always slipped into street when he was very angry or upset.

"I ain't seen you in fo' weeks, Reeve. Four fuckin' weeks! It always be Cid this or gotta fix that shit! I fuckin' sick a it."

"I have a job to do! As do you!" snarled the executive. "Don't forget it was your friends that gave it to me."

Reno clenched his teeth together and aggressively chewed on his bottom lip before responding. "Even when we had a sneak around 'for I did'n have ta share ya wit the whole fuckin' world. I made time, yo."

The Turk was beyond caring at this point, all of his anger in the past few weeks boiling over and out. The red-head threw open the doors to the office, startling the secretary that was standing just outside and hands poised to knock yet again. She quietly slipped inside, trying not to be noticed. "If ya didn' wan' it, ya shouldn't a said yes!"

The last word was punctuated with a slam as Reno pulled the heavy wooden doors violently shut behind him.

"Dammit!" swore Reeve angrily before he threw both phones at the wall displaying an uncharacteristic loss of control as both devices hit forcefully and shattered. His whole body was shaking with emotions, both of anger and sadness. He stared blankly at the closed doors for a moment before he ever so slowly sat back down in his chair and picked up a pen.

Amber eyes traced over a document as he found the proper place to sign and added his name. Funds were looking good and no money was disappearing. The renovation project was well under way and currently needed no supplies…

"Uh, sir?" came the timid voice of his secretary, Jennifer.

Reeve looked up slowly, his eyes red rimmed but dry. "Yes?" he questioned.

"Is… uh… is everything okay?" she asked, stepping slowly towards the desk.

The executive glanced around as if seeing everything for the first time and blinked. "Of course, Jennifer. Did you have something else for me to look over?"

The amber-haired girl eyed him suspiciously, recognizing the act for what it was being what she had just witnessed. Jennifer nodded slowly, gesturing towards the folder in her arms. "And Mr. Archer called. He wants you to call him back as soon as possible." She set the stack of papers on his deck. He had already returned his attentions to the document in front of him, the hand clutching his pen shaking slightly.

"Would you bring me a phone from another office please?" Reeve asked without looking up. He gestured toward another stack of important papers with his pen. "They needed to be filed. And then you can go home. I think I will lock up early tonight."

"Yes, sir," said Jennifer quietly. She took the offered stack of papers silently and quietly left the office.

When she came back in moments later, he was still furiously working on the paperwork. She left the phone on the desk without another word. She didn't speak when she noticed that that a few of the papers had water droplets on them.

----

A few hours later and Reeve was unlocking the door to his apartment that he shared with Reno. He was tired both physically and mentally. The dark-haired man dreaded the confrontation with his lover and knew that the subsequent night would be long and heart-breaking. The both of them had a lot to say to each other.

Reeve sighed as he turned the knob and stepped into the living room of their one-bedroom apartment. He was surprised to find that all the lights were off and the home sounded silent. He hung his suit jacket on the back of the nearest chair and shoved his suitcase against the wall where he normally kept it. He palmed his secret knife as he crept into the living room.

"Reno?" he called out experimentally. There was no answer. The Turk should have been there. He hadn't been sent on any missions, and he had never ran away after they had fought before. "Baby?" Only silence greeted him.

He could hear the steady ticking of the miniature cuckoo clock in the living room and the gentle hum of the refrigerator but that was all. Reeve loosened the tie around his neck as he made his way to the bedroom.

There was not a single light on anywhere. Reno wasn't really fond of being alone and in the dark all in the same moment. When the executive made his way to the bedroom, his worries were confirmed. The Turk was not there and judging by the chill in the house, he hadn't been there for quite a while.

The amber-eyed man raced to the dressers quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. The red head's clothes were still there as were his belongings. Only the Turk himself was gone. Reeve sat on their bed dejectedly, wondering when it had all gone wrong. Would it do him any good to call Reno?

Reeve felt his shoulders hitch even as his chest tightened. He was screwing everything up and he was about to lose the only man he had ever loved. The only man he needed to love. It was six months after Sephiroth's death, and the bastard was still managing to make their lives miserable.

If only Vincent knew just how much he had meant to everyone…

The executive buried his face in his hands and wondered where his lover was, and if he was ever coming back home.

-----

(1) Umm,yeah, this scene hasn't been written yet. It's part of the extended draft of Shattered Ice that I haven't gotten around to writing. But it will come out eventually, I promise.

Leave a review if you would please. I would love to know if it is up to SI's standards.


	3. The Secret

Thanks everyone. I am so happy for all the wonderful reviews that I have been given. You just don't know how excited I get when I see someone took the time to jot down a little message for me even if it's just to say update soon. I take all suggestions like that, to heart.

Special Thanks to Sorceress Fujin for reviewing!

**Chapter 3: The Secret**

Yuffie yawned and tried to cover it up with her hand. She felt a nudge at her side and looked over to see Nanaki grinning at her, trying to prod her awake. He was still in his demi-human form and had been since the battle with Sephiroth over six months ago. However, Yuffie found she liked this new form of his. It was quite handsome and very, very appealing.

Bugenhagen cleared his throat impatiently and instructed his two students to return their attentions to him. Despite the fact that both had saved the world from evil incarnate, the older, wiser man was intent on continuing Nanaki's education. And when Godo had heard of the wisdom in Cosmo Canyon, he sent his errant daughter to learn, as well. The Wutaian lord was adamant that she be educated, so that when it came time for her to take his place, she would be wise and well read.

The three were gathered in the relative comfort of his living room. Yuffie and Nanaki were sitting on the floor on a pile of pillows and blankets before the fire as a brief spring shower sprinkled the land outside. The old sage was content to stand and pace as he lectured.

"As I was saying," the elderly man continued, his eyes twinkling with merriment. He was enjoying the friendship blossoming between his two students and the hint of something more. Nevertheless, he was determined to finish their lesson. "Back to Geometry. I was explaining the dynamics of the circle in regards to radius and speed…"

"Aw," Yuffie interrupted. "Can't we discuss something more interesting?"

"Are you implying that the science of mathematics is boring?" Bugenhagen questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"No," the ninja answered. She grinned at Nanaki sneakily. "I am just saying that… well, Nanaki wants to know more about history. It is his favorite subject after all." She poked at her friend with her finger, laughing when he yelped at her sharp jab.

"Excuse me," the demi-human exclaimed indignantly. "But mathematics happens to be my favorite subject. History is boring."

Bugenhagen laughed. "You two are amusing. Ah, it does an old soul good to witness the joys of youth."

Nanaki shook his head at the older man's antics. "Don't joke, Grandfather. You are not that old, even for a human."

Yuffie scoffed. "What planet you been living on? He's an old geezer."

"Circles, my children, circles," Bugenhagen reminded primly. "You need them in order to grow up and become respectable men and women."

The dark-haired ninja opened her mouth to respond when Nanaki's PHS rang… and quite loudly for that matter. The familiar tune of _Waltz of the Flowers_ filled the air. The demi-human ducked his head to avoid the piercing gaze of his Grandfather and reached his hand in his pocket to answer the loud phone.

"Nanaki, here," he answered simply, listening to see who was on the other line. He hadn't had that particular phone long, so the numbers weren't programmed into it like his old one.

Yuffie and Bugenhagen were silent as they observed the demi-human make his call.

"We are fine. Learning about circles and such, very boring stuff, if you ask me…" the demi-human trailed off. He had immediately recognized the voice as that of Reeve Tuesti.

The executive chuckled. "Yes, I hated mathematics, as well. I called to ask if you still had that item that your grandfather found a few months ago?"

Nanaki frowned as he considered the older man's question. "Yes, it is up in Grandfather's loft."

"I am glad to hear it. I think it is time that we told Cid and showed him it."

"Are you sure? I mean, you told us…" The demi-human shook his head as if not believing that Reeve would suggest something he had so adamantly spoken against months before.

"He's getting worse, Nanaki. Kyle tells me he isn't sleeping and spends all his time either searching or doing his job. He doesn't rest."

"I can think of someone else, who is having the same problem," muttered the red-haired man under his breath. He continued to listen as Reeve talked on, obviously not having heard his friends comment.

"I think seeing it will help him, perhaps even give him some hope. I can't help but think some of this might be my fault."

Nanaki sighed noisily and rolled his eyes. "It's not your fault. I don't even see how you can even begin to think that." When Reeve didn't respond, the demi-human exhaled aloud yet again. "Look. Your phone is ringing off the hook, answer it. And go home and spend time with your lover for goodness sake. I think the world will run on its own long enough for you to do that."

Reeve gave him a small nervous laugh. "You are right. Just be cautious in how you handle Highwind, he's very moody."

"Don't worry, I think we can handle him."

"You don't know, Nanaki; he has changed. It's only been six months, and, yet, he has totally lost himself…" The executive trailed off.

"I think we've got it. Go home, Reeve. Talk to you later." The demi-human pressed the end button on his PHS and sighed audibly. Sometimes just talking to the busy executive could be draining.

"Reeve?" the little ninja questioned, assuming that it was ShinRa's newest president that had called.

The dark-haired man had taken over running the company after the fall of the conglomeration. He was seconded by Tseng and the rest of the Turks worked under them. They trialed to restore order to the world in the form of exterminating monsters, rebuilding and stopping unnecessary violence. The army and SOLDIER had been disbanded as one of the first orders of business and slowly Reeve was making ShinRa bankrupt.

Nanaki nodded simply. "He wants us to call Cid and show him the object we found a few months ago."

"I had assumed that we decided it was in the Captain's best interest that he not see it for quite some time," Bugenhagen stated, furrowing his brow.

The demi-human shook his head. "Something's wrong. Cid is truly spiraling down, and it's only gotten worse. I believe Reeve hopes that by showing him, he might be convinced to try harder and survive."

Yuffie sighed. "That bastard Sephiroth, ruining the old man's life like that. And Vinny, he never knew how much we all cared. Sure he was cold and distant and a bit of a party pooper, but, hey, we liked him anyways. Except maybe Cloud; they always did have this sort of rivalry going on."

"Are you going to call him then?" the sage asked, narrowing his gaze on his adopted grandson.

Nanaki nodded. "I agree with Reeve. Of course, I never thought we should have kept it a secret in the first place. Cid is a grown man capable of making his own decisions. Reeve means well, but he doesn't know all the answers."

"Ooh," Yuffie exclaimed. "Let me call Cid." An evil smile broke out on her face as she contemplated the many things she could tell the pilot. It had been a while since she had seen him face to face.

Bugenhagen laughed even as Nanaki scowled. "I think that would be good. Perhaps she can pull him from his apathy."

The demi-human shook his head as the ninja pulled out her phone. "And if not, she'll be able to piss him off enough that he will come here just to wring her neck."

"It's one of my many talents." The ninja smirked, sticking her tongue out at her best friends as she hit speed dial for Cid's PHS.

It rang several times before someone picked up. Yuffie waited patiently, occasionally checking her fingernails.

" 'llo?" answered Cid in a very sleepy voice. He snorted as if clearing his throat. "Highwind."

"Old man!" the ninja exclaimed cheerfully. She heard the pilot give a muffled curse then the rustling of blankets. "How've you been?"

"I was sleeping, brat. What do you want?" the blond demanded. He treated her roughly, but it was well known that he had some fatherly affection for the ninja.

"In the middle of the day!" the grey-eyed girl exclaimed. "You really are getting old."

"Yuffie…" Nanaki warned, shooting the ninja a look before she got too carried away and pissed the pilot off past convincing.

"Lookee here, you little brat…" the Captain began, fully awake now.

"We want you to come to Cosmo Canyon," interrupted the ninja quickly. "We found something that you might want to see."

"I swear if this is another one of your jokes," Cid threatened, leaving the opening so that Yuffie could decide for herself what he would do.

The grey-eyed teen rolled her eyes. "I promise. It's real. Get here as soon as you can. Nanaki says so."

"Let me talk to the overgrown lion," Cid demanded, not in the mood to play one of Yuffie's jokes.

The dark-haired younger girl handed her phone to Nanaki wordlessly. The demi-human took it with only the slightest bit of hesitance. Cid had a violent temper, especially after Yuffie managed to piss him off.

"What did you find?" the pilot demanded before Nanaki could even say anything.

"I don't want to tell you over the phone." The red-haired male sighed. "Just come, and you will see."

"Fine," snapped Cid. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." Without further adieu, the blond shut his phone, effectively ending the conversation.

The demi-human shook his head and powered off the phone, wordlessly returning it to the ninja.

"Is he coming?" the female asked.

He nodded. "Yes, but he sounded quite angry. Good going."

She shrugged in response. "At least he's feeling something."

Nanaki sighed. "Sad to say, but you're right. Cid has been bottled up far too long."

"I will go retrieve the item from the loft," Bugenhagen muttered, floating as he moved away.

"I guess now we just wait." The dark-haired shrugged ninja.

"We could learn more about mathematics," Nanaki suggested with a wicked grin.

"Oh, god! The horror!" Yuffie exclaimed in mock revulsion. She threw a hand dramatically to her forehead and pretended to swoon.

----

The Highwind touched down just outside of Cosmo Canyon, the propellers still spinning as its owner raced out through the cargo bay, his established protector on his heels.

Kyle had insisted that he was going to come with Cid and wouldn't take no for an answer. The amethyst-eyed man had simply grabbed his weapon, a two-handed axe and put his foot down.

So the blond pilot was forced to allow his ex-lover to tag along.

They swiftly made their way through the many levels of Cosmo Canyon. The tiny learned town had grown in the six months since the destruction of Meteor, many more students flocking to the home of one of the wisest men on the planet in hopes to learn. Others were searching for alternate power sources and were using the vast resources afforded by the university-like city.

It had expanded outwards, more homes and shops being built along the ground even as the inhabitants also delved inwards, cutting more notches out of the rock and creating underground dwellings and businesses. It appeared Bugenhagen had benefited greatly from the collapse of ShinRa.

Archer and Cid headed straight for the sage's home, which was located in the observatory at the very top of Cosmo Canyon. The pilot didn't stop to talk to anyone who recognized him but did at least offer a head nod. It seemed that the hope that Reeve had expected to emerge was actually doing so.

Within a few minutes, the Captain was pounding on the small door to the elder and wiser man's home. He tapped his feet impatiently as he heard the sound of scuffling inside before the door swung open, and Yuffie's cheerful expression came into view.

"Old man!" she exclaimed, throwing herself forward and wrapped her arms around the blond's neck. She embraced him tightly as he patted her back awkwardly. Archer snickered behind the two as Cid reddened slightly.

"Okay, brat, that's enough," the pilot growled softly as he sought to pry the ninja from around his body, but she was being difficult.

There was a chuckling from the doorway, and Cid looked up to see the red-haired demi-human leaning against the frame, regarding them with laughing golden eyes. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Yuffie hug Cid much to the pilot's distress.

"What's so funny?" Cid snarled as he pulled at the slimmer girl's arms. "Yuffie let go, dammit. I saw you two weeks ago."

"Come on, Yufs; let poor Cid go. I don't think he can breathe." Nanaki snickered.

"I'm glad you came," Yuffie said, disentangling herself from Cid before noticing the man standing behind him. Two seconds later and she was launching herself at Archer as well. "Archie!" Her habit for making a nickname for everybody was something that tended to ride on nerves until it was just accepted as not able to be changed. That was just Yuffie's way, and her means of showing those she cared about how she felt.

Cid shook his head and pushed past the demi-human into the house and away from the clingy ninja. She had become more affectionate afterwards, one of the many ways of coping with the loss of one of her friends. Cid withdrew, Yuffie clung, Reeve turned hard-working, and … the others had their methods, as well.

"Captain Highwind, how nice it is to see you," Bugenhagen commented as he floated in from the kitchen and noticed the slightly flustered blond.

"Still spry as ever, I see," Cid noticed, running an errant hand through his loose scraggly blond hair in desperate need of a trim. Then again, he noticed as he scratched idly at his chin…. he also needed a shave too.

"Would you like some tea, Cid?" Nanaki questioned, coming further into the house as amusement still played across his features. "I think we have some of that chamomile stuff you like."

"Yeah, sure." The pilot waved distractedly. The demi-human shrugged and disappeared into the kitchen moments before Archer and Yuffie entered the house as well, the ninja moving to join him.

Bugenhagen gestured that the two visiting men should take a seat as he himself reclined in a soft but straight backed chair. The front room to his house was very comforting and homey with the small fire crackling in the hearth and many tapestries decorating the walls. There was also the feeling of centuries of knowledge pulsating to an ancient beat in the very air of the home, probably stemming from the many bookcases scattered here and there.

"How is Highwind Enterprises?" the old sage questioned, lowering his steady gaze onto the disheveled blond in front of him. The low lighting of the room had the undesired effect of making Cid look even more pale and sickly than before and highlighting the shadows beneath his eyes. The pilot seemed immeasurably tired and worn… as if he had just given up.

As the blond relaxed in the couch, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered pack of cigarette's, immediately shaking one out and lighting it up.

It was Kyle who took it upon himself to answer the grandfather's question. "Doing very well. Reeve sends us all transporting jobs that he can come across, and many clients know exactly who to call."

Bugenhagen nodded, his sensitive ears picking up the sound of giggling from the kitchen. He hoped tea was at least getting made with all the playing around his two younger charges were delving in. The thought of their happiness warmed his heart, however. "With all the rebuilding being done, it wouldn't surprise me if you were quite profitable for some time now."

"Tea's ready!" the ninja boasted, interrupting their talk as she marched into the room with a small silver tray balanced in her nimble hands. Five ceramic cups, a small pot and two small jars rattled noisily on the metal platter. The smell of steeped chamomile filled the room and settled in their noses, instantly filling them with a small measure of peace. Nanaki came in after Yuffie, shaking his head at the girl's silliness.

"Bout damn time," Cid cursed in a friendly tone that wasn't the least bit angry. "I thought you were going to take all day."

"Which reminds me," Nanaki interjected as he crossed his legs and sat on the floor, content to sit next to his grandfather. "How are Shera and Rude?"

Cid waved his hand dismissively as he picked up a cup filled with the steaming liquid and sipped at it experimentally. It was strong… just the way he liked it. "They are fine. I gave them the house in Rocket Town, you know, because I no longer needed it…" His voice faltered for just a moment as a dark shadow passed over his features. "She's pregnant with their first child," he finished quietly. Nanaki and Archer exchanged glances, which the blond missed. He had disappeared within his mind again.

"Aw, I'll bet she'll have pretty babies," Yuffie cooed as she dumped enormous spoonfuls of sugar into her tea.

"Would you like a little tea with your sugar?" the demi-human questioned teasingly as he raised an eyebrow.

"I can't help it, if Cid likes to drink it strong," the ninja replied indignantly. "Besides, you put milk in yours." She said the last with a shudder, as if she couldn't imagine the idea of someone putting milk into their tea.

The pilot cleared his throat noisily, interrupting their little argument. "Wasn't there a reason that you called me here?"

The room went silent as everyone except Cid regarded each other in stony silence. Nanaki nodded silently as he set his cup down on the table and moved towards a small chest located next to the chair that Yuffie was sitting on. He talked as he opened it and removed an item wrapped in fabric.

"It washed up on the western shore. We searched the beaches extensively for the next week or so but couldn't find anything else," Nanaki said quietly as he laid the item down in front of Cid.

The pilot regarded him strangely as he reached forward to take the slightly heavy item in his hand. "What is it?" he asked while he worked to unwrap the mysterious object. No one answered.

Then his breath caught in his throat as the last covering fell away. It gleamed in the gentle orange light of the fire and artificial light, every inch polished as if it had been removed yesterday. It was a golden claw; an artificial limb for those without, designed to be the hand from fingertip to forearm. Cid knew it on sight. It was Vincent's. He reached out with a shaking finger to touch the metal, calloused skin tracing over smooth gold.

"When we last saw him, he was still in Chaos form," explained Nanaki slowly. "This means he had to have reverted back at some point."

"He could still be alive," Yuffie added in, displaying an unusual amount of calm and tact, as if her reactions from earlier had all been an act.

Cid took in the general unrusted appearance of the claw and how it seemed to be in almost perfect condition. It must have been cleaned because the pilot distinctly remembered it being covered in blood… the crimson liquid seeping into the joints and staining the golden metal. He shook his head to clear away the memory as he looked up into the expectant faces of his friends.

His eyes narrowed. "How long have you had it?"

Instantly, all four began to shift uncomfortably, even the normally unshakable Bugenhagen. They cast their eyes on the ground as if unable to meet his gaze. Cid could feel the beginnings of anger beginning to coil in his gut and his hand tightened slightly into a fist.

"We thought it best that we wait before you we told you," Yuffie began in a small voice when she noticed no one else offering up a word.

The pilot gritted his teeth together. "How fucking long?" he repeated.

"Five and a half months," answered Nanaki quietly, almost mumbling his words. Cid could scarcely hear him, a tightening in his chest beginning to take hold.

"What!" exclaimed the pilot, standing to his feet as the claw fell to the floor clattering loudly. "Five months! Five fucking months! I could have found him by now!" The words dully registered in his mind. That was only two weeks after the entire incident had occurred. If he had known then… Vincent could have been in his arms a lot sooner.

"Hey!" the ninja yelled getting to her feet. "Don't yell at us. We're just the messengers. Reeve suggested-"

"Reeve!" exclaimed Cid turning his angry glare onto the ninja. "He is not here right now. He's not your damn god or your fuckin' master. You could have told me."

"We thought it wiser," Bugenhagen interrupted softly, his voice cutting through the tension as easily as one would with something solid. "That you have time to grieve before you saw the proof."

"Two damn weeks of being missing and his claw shows up!" argued Cid in return, unfazed by the elder man's calm exterior. "Didn't it strike you that he could still be alive?"

"We combed the beaches, up and down the coast stretching from the Nibelheim mountains to the Gongagan mountains for a week straight. We never found him!" insisted Nanaki.

"I can't fucking believe this!" demanded Cid, slamming his fist down on the table. The crockery rattled with the force of his blow. "You have all given up on him!"

"Cid," Archer murmured softly, laying a restraining arm on his friend's shoulder. "You need to calm down."

"I don't need to do anything," the pilot hissed, shrugging off his ex-lover's touch. "I am tired of everybody deciding for me what I have to do. None of you know what I lost…. especially not Mr. President!" He reached down and snatched up the claw, a feeling of nostalgia running through his body.

"Reeve only did what he thought was right," the elderly man said. "You haven't been yourself lately, Captain Highwind."

Cid laughed, but it was hollow. "I am no one's Captain… I am not even Cid. Without him, I am nothing," he spat before storming towards the door. "Mr. Tuesti and I are going to have a little face to face talk!" he snarled before throwing open the door and stalking out.

"Oh, my," Bugenhagen commented, shaking his head slightly. "That did not go very well at all."

"I am sorry, honored grandfather, about him. I must go and make sure he doesn't try and pilot the Highwind on his own in this state," Kyle said apologetically before disappearing after the rapidly disappearing Cid.

Nanaki and Yuffie exchanged glances.

"You two had better go, as well." Bugenhagen sighed. "Something tells me that the pilot is in a particularly violent mood right now."

"At least he's reacting in some way," Yuffie mumbled. "For awhile I thought he was gone forever. He wasn't the Captain Highwind that we all knew and tolerated."

Nanaki nodded in agreement as he disappeared into a side room and emerged seconds later with his claw and Yuffie's conformer. He tossed the weapon to the ninja, who easily caught it.

"I will be back soon, Grandfather," Nanaki promised.

"You had better," Bugenhagen laughed, shaking his finger at the lion wolf. "I've had yet to teach you about Economics."

"I'd better not miss it then," the demi-human commented, while Yuffie stuck her tongue out in disgust.

"Bye, Bugey," she chimed as she rushed out the door, flashing him one of her winning smiles.

"Goodbye, Grandfather," said the red-head as he too followed the ninja out the door. Bugenhagen shook his head at the way that fate had wrought its hand and simply closed the door behind his newest charges.

----

"Cid! Dammit! Calm down!" Archer exclaimed exasperated as he struggled to catch up to the stalking pilot, who had nearly reached the cargo bay.

He was distinctly ignored.

"Highwind!" called out the amethyst-eyed man again as he stumbled over a rock but just managed to grasp a hold of the pilot's t-shirt. Cid ground to a halt and swung around, pushing Archer violently backwards with the palm of his hand. The dark-headed man stumbled but did not fall, looking up with surprise at his friend.

"Leave me alone," the blond hissed angrily. He was furious with his friends… all of them. He didn't need their protection or their pity… nor did he need them deciding what he could and couldn't handle. He was beginning to consider them a hindrance, and Kyle was at the top of the list… directly below Mr. ShinRa himself, Reeve.

"I don't need or want your damn compassion," Cid said in a cold voice.

He turned away from his ex-lover and stormed into the cargo bay. He flipped the switch to bring up the hatch for the bay, determined to leave Archer behind on the ground.

Lights flashed even as a small beeping began to sound, alerting those present that it was being upraised so that no one would be hurt. Archer hurled himself inside even as Nanaki and Yuffie landed beside him delicately, having run all the way from Bugenhagen's house.

"He's a bit mad, isn't he?" Yuffie questioned, breathing heavily.

"You think?" Kyle declared with a roll of his eyes.

"He is not as mad at us as you think," Nanaki mumbled, pushing himself up to a sitting position as he scanned the cargo bay. It was deserted. Cid had already made his way to the bridge.

They heard the sounds of the engines gearing to life and felt the familiar gut-clenching drop as the Highwind rose into the air.

"You're right," Kyle agreed grimly. He shook his head sadly. "Cid is far more pissed at Reeve. I told him that Cid would only be mad, but Reeve was certain it was the best. He should have known his temper…"

Yuffie rose to her feet and checked herself over for injuries, glad that she didn't find any. "We just have to try and calm him down before he gets to Midgar otherwise he'll say or do something he regrets."

"Easier said than done," the demi-human snorted.

"What other choice do we have?" Kyle shrugged. "If only Vincent hadn't of died…"

"He's not dead!" Yuffie denied loudly. "And I better not catch you saying that around Cid either."

The older man held up his hands in defense. "Sorry. But you have to admit… it's been six months."

"Come on," interrupted Nanaki before the ninja got too worked up, and they had two angry people rather than one. "We have to go see what Cid is doing."

Yuffie glared at Archer before following the demi-human out of the cargo bay. The amethyst-eyed man sighed and shrugged his shoulders dramatically. It was time to try and calm down an irate, cursing pilot.

----

So, what you think? Enough angst and drama to please everyone?


	4. Scattered

Thanks to all my reviewers! Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls, Thanks To You!

(Voice in the mind)

_Flashback Scene_

'Personal Thought'

WARNING: Battle Scene, Action, Fighting, Blood, etc.

**Chapter 4: Scattered **

In a cave hidden deep beneath the mountains of a forgotten island on the other side of the world, a pair of crimson eyes peeked out from a mass of shadow huddled on a throne of brown stone. A low mocking laughter issued from the strange mass, and many pairs of eyes, all belonging to small bat demons and goblins hovering about the foot of the throne, glowed dangerously.

"We found him," a sinister voice said, cutting through the inherent darkness of the deep cave as suddenly several torches flickered on, illuminating the occupants of the room. Malice dripped from its tongue, and murder was evident in every tone.

The cave wasn't unlike many mountain caves. From the ceiling hung spiraling stalactites and from the ground jutted proud stalagmites. The walls sparkled from lustrous stones embedded in the dark brown rock that comprised the main body of the room. Yet, most important were the inhabitants of the forgotten cave.

There on the dais, sitting in the plain throne was a mass of collected shadow without form or substance. From the middle of the mass shone a pair of blood-red eyes with blackened specks of hatred and deceit swirling in their maddening confusion. The eyes watched unceasingly, never ceasing even as its formless home constantly shifted in its seat.

Standing proudly before the throne was a taller creature of dark blue fur with horns jutting proudly from its forehead. Its mouth was canine in nature with many sharp and blood-stained fangs. Claws protruded from every finger and toe. It was muscular, and a line of red-bristled hair jutted proudly from its chest. This creature also had a tail, but it was mostly obscured by the dark blue cloak that was draped over his broad shoulders and down the well muscled back. It was he who had spoken the first time. This was the famous demon demi-god, Azamat.

"He lives then?" another voice questioned, this one more formal and gravelly as if from old age and wisdom. It was coming from the formless mass located on the throne.

"Yes, Balaam," hissed a third voice in a slithering tone. A second strange figure appeared next to the one clothed in midnight blue. "In Gongaga…"

This new stranger was cloaked in black, and much of its features were obscured. However, a face, heavily scarred and wrapped in bandages could be seen as well as the metal pole that was thrust quite painfully through its mouth, causing the unintentional lisp. He was known as Mabuz.

"Kill him!" the shadow on the throne ordered. "With no hesitation. Take a horde of demons and wipe out that entire town. The body must die!"

"Would you like me to go, Balaam?" the third, larger body questioned. He was hidden by a crimson cloak, body thick and stocky. A white mask covered all of this one's face while long, stringy black hair grew from its head and falling over its shoulders.

"No," commanded the breathless voice that was called Balaam. "Azamat is to go. No one stronger is needed."

"How much longer is it?" Mabuz questioned, cocking his bandaged head to the side. "Until you are whole as we now are?"

"It doesn't matter. Not until he has been destroyed," responded Balaam, his voice going cold if that were at all possible. "The knights are still resisting our rule… we cannot have the distraction of the body to contend with as well."

"We understand," answered the three in unison.

"Soon you will be our king," Daunte responded, the one with the white mask.

"Yes," the formless shadow hissed as it swirled excitedly. "And those worthless beings, who locked us away will be beneath our feet. They will feel the pain they've wrought upon themselves." Crimson eyes flashed menacingly as a great aura of power shot through the room and bathed all those present with malicious intent. "Issue the summons… it is time we built our army."

----

"Captain! There's something on the radar!" declared the member of the ship's crew that monitored the many gauges and displays on the main panel.

"What is it?" the pilot demanded as he cursed and stormed over to the smaller brunette man's side. Yuffie and Nanaki crowded all about him.

When Cid had learned that the three had managed to get onto the Highwind, he accepted their presence with an annoyed reluctance. He ignored them for the most part and pretended as if none of them were there.

Their choice to hide that object from him felt like a betrayal in some form, as if they wanted him to forget about Vincent and move on. But Cid couldn't do that… and they just didn't understand.

The thin, pale man shrugged. "I don't know. I don't recognize the shape. Could be a flock of birds."

"Then why the hell bother me?"

"Look at how they're flying," the operator pointed out. "The formation is too perfect."

"There is nothing out there but land and sea," said Cid, waving his hand dismissively. "Perhaps the instruments are messed up again. It's been a while since Shera took a good look at them, being pregnant at all."

"I don't know, Cid," Nanaki began slowly. "The movement is oddly uniform."

The blond shot his friend a glare. "I am not taking comments from any of you right now." He was still angry at the demi-human and the ninja but was reserving most of his fury for Reeve.

"Ignore it," Cid commanded. "For all we know it might be an errant cloud that is about to rain. Nothing to worry about."

"Huh?" Archer muttered suddenly. He looked around as if someone had just tapped him on the shoulder.

"What's up?" asked Yuffie, looking at him in concern.

The amethyst-eyed man frowned. "It felt like something was just pulled from me… and now I feel like something is missing." He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Never mind, it will pass. Perhaps I'm hungry."

Nanaki laughed. "You are insane, Kyle." He rolled his eyes at the dark-haired man and returned to gazing out the window. He failed to mention that the same feeling had passed over him as well. The demi-human's face turned grim as he contemplated the ill feeling of foreboding that was beginning to wash over his senses.

Something wasn't right.

---

Zack laughed quietly, while Annalee recounted yet another tale of her childhood. He took a sip of the Gongagan wine and smiled, picturing a child-like blonde Annalee chasing after bull frogs just as she described.

"Mother was so upset when I came home all covered in mud again. Father just shrugged his shoulders and dumped a bucket of water over my head. Mom was horrified, but I just laughed and ran and hugged her, getting her all muddy as well." The blue-eyed giggled female as she dug into her pasta with gusto.

The two had met at Aga's as planned when the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. Annalee was pleasant company to Zack, and he found he was enjoying himself more than he had expected.

"You're family sounds so loving," he commented truthfully as he took in his date's appearance. Annalee had dressed in a simple but bright sky blue dress with a grey over-cloak similar to his own. Her shining blonde hair had been brushed out and was hanging loosely down her back in waves. Her eyes sparkled brightly and that perpetual smile was again on her face.

"They are," Annalee agreed. "Father and mother are all I have. I've often wondered what it would be like to have sisters and brothers."

"Me, too," responded Zack as he cut his cheese-covered chicken steak into sections. "I was an only child my entire life." He froze in mid-speech when he realized what he had said.

"You remembered something!" she exclaimed happily. "Oh, Zack, that is so wonderful!" She raised her glass to his. "We must toast to that."

"But it is trivial, hardly a fact to help me know who I am. There are many out there who are only children," the grey-eyed man protested, a dark shadow crossing his features.

"Nonsense," Annalee argued. "Every little spark, every little memory, is like regaining a piece of yourself that you lost. Though small, every part is who you are."

Zack chewed thoughtfully on her words before reaching forward and picking up his own wine glass. "You are right. Here's to… remembering old dreams."

She laughed softly and Zack couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. "And perhaps making new ones," she added.

He smiled, and they clinked their glasses together, the sound reverberating quietly through the air.

The grey-eyed man brought the glass to his lips and took a sip, eyes watching hers from across the table.

(They are coming!)

He spat the mouthful of wine on the table even as his eyes widened in confusion. "What? Who's there?" he demanded, eyes darting around the restaurant to search for the voice that had suddenly exploded in his head.

"Zack?" questioned Annalee, her brow furrowed in confusion.

(There's no time. You must go! Now!)

The raven-haired man slammed his glass down to the table, breaking the slim base. Small shards of glass littered his hand. His head pounded with the oncoming of a migraine and flashes of memory suddenly raced across his mind.

_"Do not push me. It is getting harder to drown them out. And I can't say what I will do."_

_A man with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and glasses, laughing with glee and something glowing green in his hands._

Zack groaned and grabbed his head.

"Zack?" the blonde again pushed, her voice now heavy with worry. "Zack, are you all right?"

_Cigarette smoke… engine grease… calloused hands running over the inside of his thighs and a rough voice, raw with need... "You can trust me."_

_A fluttering cape of a bright crimson color, an item to hide behind, an item to lose in guilt…_

"Stop! I don't understand," Zack muttered. "I don't remember. I don't know what they mean!"

"Laris, call the doctor, quick!" Annalee urged snatching the arm of the waiter she knew by name. Laris looked down at the thrashing man and nodded, rushing off quickly.

The blonde female stood up from the chair and came to Zack's side. Her hand reached out to offer him comfort when suddenly the world around them exploded.

Fire raced through the restaurant, as if had a will of its own, even as the foundation shook and cracked. Beams from the ceiling began to fall, striking customers and employee alike.

Zack looked up through a haze of pain to see a piece of the support beams heading straight for Annalee and him. He pushed her out of the way and dove off to the side moments before the beam crashed down onto their table.

Another explosion and more fire raced through the building. Smoke began to cloud his senses. His mouth and nose was filled with the thick gas and his vision was hampered by the bright glow of fire and smoke.

'What is going on?' he wondered in his mind. 'Has Aga blown up her kitchen again or is it something much worse.'

"Annalee?" Zack called out, trying to shout above the noise around him and the pain that was pounding in his skill. He pushed himself up from the ground and tried to see through the haze of smoke and fire.

He coughed. His throat was burning and his eyes were stinging, but he had to find Annalee. He couldn't abandon her to the flames.

He pushed through despite the face he could not see and tripped over a fallen beam. He crashed to the floor, his hands shooting out to catch himself. Zack hit the ground hard, his breath momentarily knocked from his body. But it was what his blistering fingers had landed on which caused him to look up in confusion.

Soft cotton lay beneath the fingertips. Through eyes gone red-rimmed and teary through spoke, Zack could see Annalee lying on the floor of the restaurant, bleeding from a gash in her forehead and pinned beneath another section of the roof. Crimson fluid was trailing slowly out of the corner of her mouth, but he dared not look at her abdomen where the beam had surely crushed her.

Grey eyes widened in horror as Zack scrambled to his feet and raced to her side, tentatively touching her face. She seemed so lifeless.

"Annalee! Wake up, Annalee, we have to get out of here," he said on a croak, hardly able to breathe thanks to the roaring fire and smoke. He could hear someone screaming faintly and smelled burning skin, not a pleasant scent to be sure.

He reached out with one hand and struggled vainly to find a pulse in her neck. He could feel no life beat however. Groaning with frustration and pain, Zack coughed loudly and stumbled to his feet. Fire licked at the edges of his cloak, and he frantically wrapped the fabric around him tighter.

But there was no escape for him. Only fire and smoke, everywhere he looked.

(Head right. There is a window you can escape through.) Again the voice in his mind spoke. Zack entertained notions of just ignoring his own madness but decided that he had nothing else to lose.

Bracing himself, Zack ran blindly through the fire, feeling it reaching out for him, blistering the skin on his face and hands and catching onto his cloak. He stumbled without seeing, tripping on objects but heading completely off to the right.

Through teared vision, he barely saw the flicker of reflection before he crossed his arms in front of his head and dove towards the glass. He could feel the window breaking around him as he pummeled through it.

Zack landed on the ground hard, amid pieces of broken window pane and glass shards. He felt his body snap tightly and hoped no bones were broken even as he frantically rolled around in the grass to put out the fire. Within seconds he had his cloak smoldering, but he wasn't in danger of burning to death. Coughing horrifically, spitting up soot and ash, the grey-eyed man peered around, dimly registering the screams of the dying and the smell of burning high on the air.

He looked up, trying to get his bearings and stared straight into the coal black eyes of a demon which was leering down at him, blood-stained teeth bared. In the creature's clawed hand was a rusty blade that seemed destined to sever his head from his body.

The demon leered, and its muscles twitched. The dark-haired man knew without a shadow of doubt that it was about to attack.

Instinct took over. Zack rolled out from under the demon's attack and ended up behind it, bouncing up to the balls of his feet before springing at the winged creature. He wrapped his hands around the demon's neck and gave a violent twist, breaking the dark beast's neck. It crumpled to the ground beneath him with a shudder, weapon falling uselessly from its hands.

Panting slightly and surprised at what he had done, Zack moved back in horror at the dead body, feeling his back to the wall of the burning restaurant. His eyes darted around at the destruction everywhere. More demons prowled the streets, screams filled the air and the smell of burning flesh… that stench was everywhere.

He had one thought on his mind. He had to check on Granny and Gramps. Zack steeled himself for the ordeal to come and swiftly started to steal his way through the town.

His heart was aching as he watched the homes and businesses of his town burned down. He was still coughing, trying to get the acrid burn of the smoke out of his lungs and his mouth. Grey eyes gazed around worriedly as he wondered how he was going to get back to his home on the edges of Gongaga. The demons were in full attack mode, nearly everywhere he looked.

But something deep within him… an old training he scarcely remembered… gave him all the instinct he needed to avoid them.

Zack slowly made his way through the town, having to duck into shadows and press himself against the walls of houses occasionally. He tried his best to drown out the screaming, yelling, and crying that he could hear from his fellow townsfolk.

He pressed himself up against the nearest wall as the sound of approaching feet neared to him. Grey eyes darted around wildly, hoping to spot the enemy before it spied him.

Suddenly a rough pair of hands grabbed him and threw him away from his hiding spot. He flew through the air and crashed into a smoldering pile of wood, what used to be a small shed of sorts. Zack groaned as pain raced through his shoulder and pushed himself up with his arms, shaking his head and struggling to look up.

Zack looked up from the wreckage and idly noted the three goblins that had gathered around him. All of the monsters were winged it seemed, perhaps indicating their method of attack. He eyed the bloodthirsty creatures warily even as he searched for a weapon, his hand wrapping around a piece of slightly smoldering wood which still seemed strong enough to sustain a hit.

The grey-eyed man stood shakily to his feet, trying to ignore the aching in his muscles or the fresh hot fire racing through his shoulder.

"He's too skinny for even a taste," one of the goblins commented, fluttering its wings. He licked his lips and grinned ferally at Zack.

"But we can have fun," hissed another. Without further adieu and long monologues, he leapt at Zack, determined to play with his prey.

The raven-haired man braced himself for the attack and swung his weapon in a wide arc in a well-timed instant. The demon wasn't prepared for his enemy to fight back and looked up in horror seconds before the wooden plank cracked over his head and split it open. The goblin demon dropped to the ground with a wet sound and lay there unmoving.

The goblin that had spoken before let out a screech of anger and tackled Zack before he could recover from the first attack. The two went down, Zack landing on the bottom, his back crashing into the debris.

"Gah!" exclaimed the dark-haired man as shooting pain raced through his back. He grappled with the goblin, dimly noting that the third and final one was approaching, determined to aid his companion.

With a strength born of determination and fear, Zack drove his knee into the fleshy area of the goblin's waist and jammed a finger into the creature's eye. The goblin howled in agony and pulled back far enough that Zack could grasp another stick of wood and crack it over the side of the creature's head.

The goblin dropped like a sack of potatoes, sliding sideways off of the dark-haired man and trapping him momentarily beneath his heavier weight.

A pair of claws gripped him by the foot and yanked with great strength. Zack struggled to find a purchase even as he was pulled out from beneath the goblin's body. He was picked up by the clawed hand on his feet and swung into the side of a crumbling building.

"Ungh…" groaned the dark-haired man when his back struck hard, knocking most of the breath from his lungs. His head swam, and his muscles protested every moment, but Zack struggled to push past the pain. He stumbled unsteadily to his feet with his back braced against the burning building. Smoke tickled at his throat, and he started coughing again.

He peered with red-rimmed grey eyes and had scarce seconds to react before the goblin that had gripped and thrown him attacked.

Rusty sword upraised, the demon rushed at the swooning Zack, convinced he had an easy target. Yet, he was wrong. Though Zack could not recall his past, his body and instincts certainly remembered their training well enough.

He stood his ground, waiting until the last possible second to move, staring unflinching into sickly yellow eyes. In the last moment before the rusty blade could thrust into his unprotected abdomen, Zack twisted his body to the side.

The demon, unable to stop its forward momentum, plunged its weapon into the side of the building.

Zack completed the maneuver and stood facing the building as he placed his hands over the demon's on the weapon's handle. He quickly kicked backwards at the winged creature in the same instance that he gave a great yank on the stuck handle. The demon staggered backwards a few steps but that didn't matter. The rusty sword was now free in Zack's hands.

"Damn you!" the dark-haired man hissed as he whipped around and expertly twisted the blade towards the goblin's weak abdomen. He felt the sword bite flesh and couldn't suppress the grin of victory from breaking out over his face.

Blood splattered everywhere from the wild swing. The cheap and rusted blade broke inside the goblin's body while the creature gurgled very unattractively. It fell to its knees, hands clutching uselessly at its life's blood pouring from its body.

"Balaam was right," wheezed the demon, fixating its yellow glare onto the bewildered Zack. "You must die."

The now broken sword hilt fell from nerveless fingers as Zack stared horrified at the blood that was splattered over his hands and now stained the ground beneath him.

So much blood… terror… and destruction. Fighting against the demon within, she is an innocent, a child, do not touch her! It was his own voice screaming at himself… or more honestly something within him, hoarse with the cries and furious with the entity.

"You will be the ultimate weapon. The perfect soldier, my little monster." The bespectacled man grinned as squeezed the pale globes before him. "And when I am done using you, I will throw you out like the dirty used trash you are."

'What am I? What was I?' His mind whirled with questions even as his heart thudded loudly in his chest, worry for his caretakers overshadowing even his own safety.

He stumbled blindly past the body of the fallen monster, barely registering that it had been he that killed the creature.

He had to find Granny and Gramps. He had to make sure they were safe.

And deep inside his soul, something was trying to call to him, but was being ousted by the swirling memories attempting to break free.

----

Erebus sighed angrily and tried again to reach his animus, but the saddened grey-eyed man was currently beyond his communication. Something needed to startle him from the memories pushing at his subconscious.

The demi-god struggled in vain, wanting to break free and help his animus before it was all too late. They needed him, if the world was to be saved and the Apocalyse to be stopped before it even began. The spirit of the Guardian Force could do nothing to stop the rising evil unless it could rebond with its respective animus. But as deaf as most inhabitants of Planet Gaia had become to their inner subconscious… the future may have been lost.

The demi-god sighed and tried again, calling louder and wishing that he could talk to Baal. However, the winged bat demi-god had been secreted in another portion of the grey-eyed man's subconscious and could not hear his closest friend.

So much blood and destruction… so much pain. That was what Erebus could see looking through the eyes of his animus. The humans were in need of the old ways… now more than ever before, but unless he could get his own animus to hear him… all was lost.

----

So, does anyone have any clue what is going on?

Review Please! I'm begging feedback!


	5. House Guest

**Thanks to my reviewers Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls! Your support is appreciated!**

**Chapter 5: House Guest**

Reeve was dreaming. He knew that he had to be. Because the last thing he truly remembered was working diligently at his desk, eyes occasionally watching the phone and willing it to ring.

In this dream, he was back in the apartment he shared with Reno. It was just the two of them. Outside the window, the night was dark, and the stars were twinkling in the sky so prettily.

They were lying in the enormous king-sized bed together, both already nude from their exertion earlier in the night. Reeve was snuggled against his younger lover with one paler arm wrapped possessively against his waist. The executive himself had an arm thrown across his lover's chest. It was a tender moment that brought tears to his eyes.

Reno shifted against him and suddenly a finger was making slow seductive circles along the dark-haired man's back. He melted with the touch and moved his head just slightly to trail a lazy tongue from Reno's upper arm to the juncture of his neck and shoulder where he bit ever so gently.

"Can't sleep?" Reno drawled, his tones smooth and sultry in the quiet of their bedroom.

"With you next to me, sleeping is the last thing on my mind," purred Reeve, nipping gently at the younger man's throat.

There was a rumble in said man's throat as Reno brought up his free hand and grabbed Reeve's chin. He tilted the amber-eyed man's head upwards and the two shared a slow, languorous kiss. The red-head's tongue slipped inside his lover's mouth and slowly explored, occasionally doing battle with the wet muscle that it encountered.

Reeve trailed a hand down Reno's body , lightly stroking him.

Reno moaned and rolled, pinning the executive beneath him but never once breaking the kiss. He ground his hips into that of his older lover's.

"Mmmm, you taste good," the red-head commented as he broke free of the kiss so that Reeve could breathe and licked gently on the sensitive skin of the executive's neck.

"I want you," Reeve purred, wrapping his arms around the red-head's back and digging his fingers lightly into the hard plane of muscle. Reno chuckled against the soft skin and ran a palm over the executive.

The dark-haired man sucked in a breath and arched up into the touch, grinding harder against him. His body felt hot and a familiar feeling of need and desire was pooling in his belly. How Reno could do that to him with just the slightest of touches was amazing.

He released one of hands from around the red-head's back and flipped it above his head, digging under the pillow for the small bottle of lube he had taken to secreting there. His fingers closed around the tiny tube, and he triumphantly pulled it out, moaning when Reno bit down lightly on his neck and sucked hard, marking his territory.

**----As always, Censored for Fear of Sudden Deletion. For the uncensored version, visit my account at under the same author name----**

Reeve's body tensed, his back arched, and he chewed on his bottom lip as he came. The red-head moaned long and loud, clamping his teeth onto Reeve's shoulder and giving him a bright red hickey as he released into the older man's body. He could feel the Turk's essence filling him, and he wrapped his arms tight around Reno's neck, drawing him into a vicious, mouth-bruising kiss.

"Mr. Tuesti!"

Reeve sat up with a start, knocking the pencil cup off his desk while some papers fluttered to the floor. His amber eyes were wide as he looked wildly around the room, finding that his secretary was looking down at him with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Good dream?" she questioned.

Reeve gaped at her for a moment, the hotness that had spread through his body slowly starting to fade though he still ached. That memory was one of the last times that he had managed to find some personal time to spend with Reno.

He opened his mouth to speak. "I…" Reeve flushed red before he regained his composure. "What did you need?"

"Mr. Archer called. He said to tell you that Cid is on his way to see you, and he is pi- um, very angry."

Reeve moaned and his head fell forward, forehead smacking the top of the desk. "Great. Just what I need right now."

"I'll be sure to let them in when they get here," Jennifer responded cheerily. She scooped up the fallen papers off the floor and placed them back on his desk before leaving without another word.

Reeve didn't lift his head, not really wanting to look at all the requisitions and such he still had to sign. What he wanted was for Reno to come home or call him back… or even just turn on his damned PHS.

He sighed and closed his eyes, wanting to return to the dream. If he concentrated hard enough he could feel that pale skin beneath his hands and smell that enticing scent that was all Reno once more.

----

Rude was looking for his wife. He had come home from a day trip to Nibelheim, delivering a small item for the shop in town.

He had looked in the kitchen first, half-expecting her to be standing at the stove boiling water for tea. She had become addicted to the stuff after serving it to Cid for so many years. The dark-skinned man found that he liked the stuff as well… especially mixed with lots of sugar.

Rude exited the quiet and empty kitchen and went back into the hallway. After the fall of ShinRa he had gotten a job as a bodyguard of sorts to anyone who wanted to hire him. This left him out of the house for days at a time. However when he was home, he did odd jobs around Rocket Town, anything that needed his strength. Yet, the newly married couple were already used to that, having had to put up with it when they were secretly courting.

Rude couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face as he traveled through the empty house that once belonged to Cid Highwind. The pilot had been immeasurably kind in allowing Shera and him to live there. Then again, Cid would have lived in it himself… had Vincent survived.

Shera wasn't in the bedroom or the living room… or any other room in the house. Reno couldn't be found either. Last night the red-haired Turk had shown up at their house asking if he could stay a couple of days. When Shera lay down for the night, Rude had gotten the whole story out of his former partner but still best friend. He and Reeve had a fight, and Reno was pissed. Somehow Rude was not surprised. His friend did have the temper of a Bomb, three hits… and he blew up. Maybe the aquamarine-eyed man had gone to the bar or something…

However, Rude knew exactly where to find his wife. Where she wasn't SUPPOSED to be. He exited through the back door and immediately set his sights on the small work shed in the backyard.

Sure enough he heard the strains of some soft music coming through the thin walls; he noticed the light was on. Shaking his head at his wife's stubbornness, Rude made his way swiftly to the door and opened it quietly, hoping to surprise her.

Inside the workspace were many abandoned projects, half finished repairs, and some that hadn't even been started. Shera loved machinery, and Rude found that endearing in her. She was cute when she had the slightest smudge of engine grease on her cheek or nose.

Currently, his brown-haired wife was sitting with her back to the door, diligently picking at some mechanical object; he couldn't even begin to guess what, with a screwdriver. She was humming along softly to the instrumental tune that was playing from the tiny radio. Shera had a nice voice, soft and smooth.

"I think I remember the doctor saying something about staying AWAY from dangerous objects," said Rude loudly.

She didn't even move as she answered him. Shera did seem to have an uncanny sense for knowing when she was not alone. "I guess that means you and I will be sleeping in different rooms tonight," she stated without missing a beat, her voice incredibly sing-song.

Rude chuckled. She also had a quick wit that made him love her so much more. He moved across the room and wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, resting his hands on the bulge in her belly.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. "I missed you," she mumbled softly.

"Ohm," Rude muttered before kissing her softly on the lips. "I missed you, too. How's junior?"

Shera laughed softly, before placing her own hands over his, rubbing small circles on the back of his hands. "Healthy as before. You worry too much, Mr. Alexander."

"Can you blame me?" he questioned. "Why don't you come in the house?"

"I'm almost finished upgrading this mako-powered transmission converter." The words were almost foreign to Rude's mind. He couldn't even begin to fathom where on Gaia that part would have come from.

Regardless, he concentrated on convincing his nerdy wife to come in the house. "Please," he mumbled softly, kissing her softly on the neck. "I'm hungry…"

Shera laughed as she shook her head. "Oh, sure. I'm too much of an invalid to sit on my ass and fix this converter, but I can stand on my feet and slave over a hot oven all day."

"I'll cook," offered the dark-skinned man.

She moved to get to her feet as she raised an eyebrow. "How can I say no to that?" Rude offered her a hand. The child within her womb was growing so quickly. She was beginning to become big… though he wouldn't dare say that aloud. Shera was still as beautiful to him as the first day he had met her, but she was also moody thanks to the hormones. Rude wasn't taking any chances.

He helped his wife into the house and the kitchen, where he seated her at the table. Rude took off his jacket and threw it across a chair before rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands, preparing to cook.

"The doctor says we can expect him around the second week of August."

Rude furrowed his brow with worry as he poked around in the fridge for some ideas on what to cook. He hadn't had fried chicken in a while… but all that fat wasn't good for the baby. He sighed and started to move a few things around. "I worry about you being alone here, even though it's only the sixth month. I think I'll stick around for a while."

"What are we going to do about money?" Shera questioned, frowning slightly. "I don't think that's necessary."

"This last job, the businessman, offered me a permanent position. Besides, we've got plenty saved up, we'll be fine. I am more concerned about losing you or our child," commented Rude. And he had every reason to behave that way. The doctor had expressed some concern over the pregnancy, but he had been rather vague about why. He claimed he was waiting on some test results out of Cosmo Canyon before he explained any further. The doctor didn't want to unnecessarily worry them.

Shera smiled. "I love you, too."

"I ran into one of Cid's crew, while I was in Nibelheim," the dark-skinned man commented as he finally selected some vegetables to sauté and some boneless chicken to bake.

"He was mentioning that Cid was griping about some random part on the Highwind that hasn't been working right. I think he was trying to hint at something."

The brown-haired mechanic laughed then stopped suddenly, her eyes widening and her hands moving to her belly.

"What? What is it?" asked Rude, immediately moving to her side in concern.

Shera grabbed his hand and pressed it to her belly. He grinned when he felt the movement beneath his palm.

"Quite active isn't he?" Rude questioned as he shared a kiss with his glowing wife.

"You have no idea," she answered with the roll of her eyes. "Alright, now get back to cooking. I'm hungry."

Rude smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Yes, ma'am!" he teased as he moved back towards the stove and proceeded to prepare the meal he had planned.

Shera mused quietly for a moment, her hand contemplatively rubbing her belly. "I would bet that it is the mechanism for the landing gears. They made the most godawful screech the last time he came to visit."

"Don't ask me. I couldn't even begin to hazard a guess."

"Hm," pondered Shera. "I am worried about him, Rude."

The dark-skinned man sighed. "We all are. Some of us more than others, which is why we have a red-headed trouble maker staying in our spare room."

Shera distinctly heard the sound of the front door opening and closing moments before a voice called out.

"Yo, partner!"

Rude shook his head. "Well, speak of the devil."

Shera rolled her eyes. "Look, honey, our eldest son is home," she teased as the red-head came into view, striding into the kitchen with his characteristic grin on his face.

He plopped down in one of the chairs. "What'cha cooking?"

"Nice to see you too," Rude commented. "What's that you say? How was my trip? Fine thank you, everything went smoothly."

"Glad to hear that, yo." Reno smirked as he leaned back and reclined comfortably. "Gonna feed me, too?"

"Only if you're polite and keep your feet off the table," Shera retorted, pushing the huge black boots off of the table. They plopped unceremoniously to the floor, and Reno returned to his upright position.

"Reeve called for you today," Rude stated softly, instantly gathering the red-head's attention.

"Oh?" Reno questioned, his mood instantly shifting. "Hey Shera, the 'bird was making some odd noises, yo." He jerked a thumb towards Rude. "If baldy here lets you, you mind taking a look at it?" 'Bird was Reno's nickname for his helicopter, the Black Bird.

Shera mused thoughtfully. "You know, the President was supposed to get all of the injector's upgraded. That might just be it."

"I am not having her climbing out underneath your helicopter," warned Rude with a shake of his head. "Go back home and get it looked at. Reeve knows mechanics some, doesn't he?"

Reno shrugged in return and ignored Rude. He moved from his chair into one nearer to Shera, holding out his hand with a shift of his eyebrow. "May I?"

Shera nodded, and Reno gingerly reached out and pressed a hesitant palm to his best friend's wife belly. As if knowing that his 'Uncle Reno' was there, the child kicked roughly, causing the red-head to grin wide.

"He knows his uncle, doesn't he?" The Turk smirked.

"Quit feeling up my wife and go call your intended," snorted Rude good-naturedly as he turned and gave Reno his best impression of the Highwind glare. As usual, it had no effect.

"What'd he say?" Reno asked as he gave Shera back her personal space and returned to his seat of earlier.

"He's worried about you," she answered for her husband. "Why won't you just turn on your PHS?"

Reno frowned, his blue eyes darkening some. "I don't want to talk to him right now."

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Rude questioned slowly. "Not that I don't like your company or anything."

"Until I can think about him without wanting to rip his head off," the red-head retorted gamely, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

"Great," Shera groaned. "He'll be here forever."

Reno cocked open one aquamarine eye and gazed at his friend's wife. "Eh?"

She pointed a thumb at her husband. "I still want to tear his head off at times, so that's not a realistic goal."

"I told him I had seen you but didn't elaborate," Rude inserted smoothly. The smell of baking chocobo began to waft through the kitchen.

"Doesn't matter," muttered Reno. "He's too busy to come here anyways, yo." He sounded every bit the sullen child.

"He sounded really stressed," the bald man commented. He stirred the steaming pan on the stove, watching his vegetables sauté with a careful eye.

"My point exactly," Reno responded, waving his hand vaguely.

"But that doesn't mean you should disappear on him without a word or anything. You didn't call and let him know you were here," scolded Shera gently. "He was out of his mind thinking all sorts of random and horrible situations. You know how his mind works."

Reno snorted. "Actually, I wouldn't. I hadn't had a real conversation with him in four weeks. And 'Lena's planning the entire wedding on her own because he won't give any input." He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, a stressed look appearing on his young features. "I just can't help but think he's pushing me away."

Rude shook his head at the younger man. "If he didn't care, he wouldn't bother calling."

"He might just be doing it out of habit. That's how he is, Reeve the fix-it man. ShinRa's his responsibility; the rebuilding of Gaia is his job; Cid is his constant worry; Reno's just the bottom of the fucking list! Oh, no, we argued. So it's his job to fix it. I don't even think he even understands WHY I'm angry in the first place, but I know he's making it his duty to solve the problem."

"Maybe he would if you explained things," Rude suggested as he kept a critical eye on the sizzling pan, while he busied himself with laying out a few plates and silver ware on the table. The food was almost done, and the kitchen had a pleasant warm feeling to it as well as a comforting, delicious smell.

"He listens, but he doesn't hear me, if you know what I am saying." Reno laid his head back on the back of the chair and closed his eyes as if in defeat. "Maybe we are too different… maybe it was a mistake."

Shera opened her mouth to protest when the familiar strains of 'Iron Man' filled the air. It was Rude's PHS. The brown-haired female frowned as she dug into her husband's pocket and pulled out the slim phone.

"Who is it?" questioned Rude as he pulled the baked chicken breasts out of the oven.

"It's your mother…" Shera answered trailing off as she pressed the button to answer the phone. The entire kitchen went silent.

"Hello, Mrs. Alexander."

But what she heard in response made her blood run cold and her face pale. "Hello? Hello?"

There was the distinct high pitched sound of some kind of electronic disturbance, and Shera pulled the phone away from her ear, grimacing.

After that it all came through clear and the brunette wished that it hadn't.

The sound of screams and explosions filled the room as Rude's mother struggled to speak over the cacophony, her voice sounding strained and terrified.

"Rude! Honey! Oh, God!" The phone crackled again.

"Mom?" the ex-Turk questioned, swiveling around, his eyes widened in fright.

There was a sound of screaming and faint yelling. "NO! Stay back!"

"Rude?" came the hesitant voice again. "If you can hear me please, help," pleaded his mother.

Three pairs of eyes met over the edge of the slim phone. Shera was pale, her hands trembling as she held the phone.

The sound of coughing echoed through the kitchen. Rude darted forward and snatched the phone from his wife's hands. "Mom?"

But all he heard was the sound of glass breaking, a frightened shriek and the clatter of an electronic device hitting the floor. The phone went dead in his hands.

"Oh, my god," she breathed, her heart pounding.

"Reno! Stay here with Shera!" ordered Rude suddenly, hand nearly white-knuckled on its grip on the phone. "I'm going to Gongaga."

"No!" Reno argued, getting to his feet. "You stay here! I'll go!"

"That is my mother, Reno! I'm not going to argue with you," Rude disagreed, shaking his head as he moved towards the door and the den where he kept all of his weapons and materia from the time before there was peace.

"And she is your wife!" the red-head hissed fiercely as he darted forward and grabbed onto his friends shirt. "You will not walk out on her!"

Rude was stunned by the fire he saw in his friend's eyes. He nodded slowly, and Reno reluctantly released his hold on him.

"You two stay here. I will go to Gongaga," Reno finished in a smaller tone. Without another word, the red-haired Turk left from their kitchen, slipping the keys to the helicopter from his pocket.

Rude moved to his wife's side and pulled the silently weeping women into his arms. They ignored the food slowly becoming inedible on the stove, worry weighing too heavily on their hearts.

----

Whoa! Talk about a major rush of emotions there. Unfortunately, the way this story begins all smut will be in the form of a dream or some self-loving until I can find a way to get our couples back together…. unless I really feel up to attempting to write a het scene and somehow fit it in… then again… most of them are pregnant… hmph.

Leave a review before you go. I'm working diligently on the next chapter.


	6. Fault Lies Within

Thanks to Sorceress Fujin for her review!

Warnings: graphic battles and intense imagery. Not for those who don't like serious angst or blood.

_Flashback_

(Voice in mind)

'Personal Thought'

**Chapter 6: Fault Lies Within **

Zack stumbled the last few steps to his home, never more excited to see the innocent white flower pots that normally decorated the pathway leading to the front entrance. However, the sight of seeing that protective home leaking thick black smoke out the back end of the house was what stirred him into action.

"Gramps! Granny!" the dark-haired man exclaimed as he burst in through the front door. He received no answers in return as he quickly scanned the living room. There was no one there. Grey eyes took in the shabby state of the living room, from the clawed up furniture and the soiled painting that hung in ragged shreds over the fireplace. Blood was splattered in small droplets here and there, but he still held hope. Gramps was a strong man; he could handle himself against any of these weak monsters.

He ran towards the kitchen, stopping only long enough in the doorway to determine that no one was present before heading for the den. Claw marks were dragged along the wall making him sink lower into depression, hope becoming a dim memory.

It was then that he heard it. The evil, cackling laughter and the now recognizable sound of flesh being pierced by something sharp and wet blood splattering. He even felt it, like a stirring in the back of his mind, an evil aura, significantly more powerful than the other creatures he had encountered. He put on a burst of speed as he raced down the hallway, skidding to a stop in the doorway of the den.

His face blanched and his stomach rolled immediately, nausea threatening to overcome him.

For there in the middle of the room lay the bodies of his caretakers, slashed to horrible bits. Granny's kind blue eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling even as Gramps lay half over her, as if protecting his wife to the end.

Crouched over their corpses was one of the largest demons that Zack had seen invading his town. It was gleefully playing in the wounds on the bodies, idly licking blood of its clawed fingers.

"You finally showed," the demon purred without looking up.

"Bastard!" Zack choked out, emotion tearing at his soul and grief exploding in his chest.

Scarlet red eyes looked at him intently, malice evident in their swirling madness. The demon chuckled as it stood to its full height, licking its claws in front of the emotionally shaken Zack and kicking at the bodies at his feet.

"I've been waiting for quite some time, host of the true king," the demon hissed. "You treat me with great disrespect to take so long."

"You… foul creature!" Zack spat, hands balling up into fists at his side. "They were good, innocent people who did not deserve this!"

"Oh?" questioned the demon, raising an eyebrow in question. "Then you only have yourself to blame."

Zack cocked an eye at him and had no time to react before the demon moved so quickly, standing in front of him and gripping his chin tightly with clawed fingers. The grey-eyed man flinched as he felt the already blood-stained talons dig into his skin and create small punctures.

The demon's breath was fetid on the raven-haired man's face. "It is you we are here for. It is you that was the reason for the destruction of Gongaga," the nameless demon cackled. "Their blood is on your hands."

_Her death will stain your soul even blacker than it is now! Her blood is on your hands!_

Zack jerked in the demon's grasp, the sudden memory echoing the sadistic creature's words.

He growled angrily, no longer feeling apathetic in the demon's grips. Rage and hurt flooded his vision; he was seeing everything through a crimson tint. The stench of fresh blood was heavy on the air and fueled his desire to destroy the abomination before him. He kicked blindly at it, smiling satisfactorily when his booted foot connected with a thin and bony leg.

The demon howled in agony before gripping Zack tightly and throwing him across the floor. The stone-eyed man went flying, crashing into a familiar brown case, shattering the display glass that covered the items inside. He fell to the ground in a limp pile of limbs, grunting with the force of his landing. He heard a distinct crack and knew that something had broken.

Something hard struck him in the head, little objects feeling like pebbles began to rain down on him as if they were hail. Grimacing, Zack pushed himself to his knees. Pain raced through his left arm and the dark-haired man realized he had dislocated his shoulder, possibly even fractured the bone. His hand landed on an object he instantly recognized by the feel. One of Gramps' guns, a collectable that was affectionately nicknamed the Hell Fire.

A black blur quickly crossed the length of the room, suddenly appearing and towering above Zack. A taloned foot landed firmly on the injured man's back and pushing him down into the debris. The dark-headed man gritted his teeth but stood his ground, fingers curling around the gun. It felt so right to be holding that weapon. Not like with the sword. The trigger seemed to fit his hand perfectly and knowing Gramps' tendencies, the gun was more than likely loaded.

"Stupid human!" the demon hissed, grinding the spiked heel of its foot into Zack's back causing the man to cry out in pain. "You and your anima have caused this upon yourselves."

He lifted up his foot to kick at the granite-eyed man again, determined to inflict as much pain as possible on the bane of Balaam's existence.

Yet, Zack surprised him by suddenly rolling over, even onto his injured shoulder and pointing the shotgun straight into the startled demon's face.

"Go to hell!" hissed the stone-eyed man moments before he pulled the trigger. The sound of a shotgun blazed in the night even as warm, sticky blood splashed over the face of the dark-haired man. Zack had hardly flinched despite the gore that was now spread about the room.

The demon sunk to the floor, head no longer a part of its body.

Panting slightly, Zack pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the unbelievable pain racing through his shoulder. He looked to the weapon that felt comfortable in his hands. It was a simple double-barreled shotgun with six slots for materia and extensive coupling.

Grey eyes dully took in the state of the demon and misted with sadness at the fallen bodies of the two that had cared for him so diligently, despite what he didn't know. And how had he repaid them? By bringing death to their door… if the words of the demon were to be trusted.

Yet, Zack knew beyond any doubt that the vile creature had not lied. The destruction and burning of Gongaga lay on his shoulders. It was in that moment that the man with no memory knew what he had to do. The demons would pay for what they had done, if Zack himself had to hunt down every last one of them.

The granite-eyed man turned and dug into the cabinet before producing a triple-belted holster that would wrap around his hip and then his upper thigh for better support. He shoved the gun into the holster before returning to his search for more ammo. He idly considered taking more than one weapon but quickly realized it might be more of a hindrance than a help. Zack took as much ammo as he could carry and stuffed it into the pockets of his cloak, which had miraculously survived many of the trials of the night, though now it was tattered and worn.

Stifling a sob, he swiftly crossed the room and headed for the small desk located near the fire place. He knew that Gramps always kept a few low level materia in the upper left drawer for emergencies.

He pulled open the drawer and was glad to find four small balls of magic roll towards him. Zack reached in and withdrew a small green orb. He peered at it closely, sensing on his own that it was a restore materia. He quickly pushed the orb into the weapon and cast a Cure spell. Immediately the tingle of magic passed through his body, and the pain in his shoulder faded. To completely heal it, he would need something stronger, but for now the low level cure would do.

He reached in and swiped up the other three materia, noting that they were Ice, HP Plus, and Exit. Great. If he ever needed to run from battle, at least he had an escape route. He quickly pressed the materia into the slots before crossing the room to look down sadly at the couple that had treated him so well.

Zack jerked the blanket off of the back of the couch. When the hunt was done… he had already made up his mind… as if he knew this day would come. But for now, the blanket would suffice to preserve their pride and honor.

He kneeled down before their bodies and gently closed their eyelids with shaking fingers. They were so kind… undeserving of such a fate. He draped the cloth over their still forms and sat for a moment in solemnity, giving them their due.

A hot anger began to settle within him as he knelt. Someone had to pay for their death… someone had to pay for the destruction of his home. His hands tightened into fists, stretching the scars of his left and paining him slightly. The sharp stab of hurt served to remind him what must be done.

Determination set in his features and Zack rose swiftly. The leader, the perpetrator of this attack, had to be somewhere. He wasn't a hero or a fighter, but, by the gods, he was not going to stand and watch!

He moved quickly through the house, exiting through the front door. After so long, the scent of smoke no longer affected him as it did before. The screams seemed to be fading as he settled into a single mind. Find the one who had caused this!

Zack passed through the town, hardly noticing what was going on around him. What few demons dared approach him, he either froze or shot without a single thought. He didn't have time to think on what he was doing, how easily he controlled the gun, or how simple it was to shoot without hesitation. He merely accepted the events as they were, determined to think about them later.

He pushed his back against the nearest building when he heard the sound of deep, garbled laughter. It was distinctly different from that of the other monsters he had encountered. Peeking around the corner of the building, he saw why his instincts had told him to hide.

In the town square, surrounded by at least a dozen of the monsters, stood a creature even taller than all the others. They were all gathered around a huge bonfire. It wore no clothing and was covered in deep purple hide. Two horns jutted from its forehead, and its maw was reminisced of a wolf, complete with huge fangs. It was laughing as it took in the destruction, licking his lips occasionally when he noted blood stains or the bodies of the fallen.

Zack's body trembled with rage as he gripped the Hell Fire tightly. To take on so many would be suicide…

_Surrounded on all sides… in the center of the world… so many there seems to be no end._

The grey-eyed man gasped and grasped his head, another memory assaulting his mind. However, they were so fragmented, he couldn't even begin to understand the slightest thing about them.

_Dark-brown hair… and a suit… deep blue?... a name… Ra..ven?_

"Well, well, if it isn't the host," a voice sneered from behind him. He had been so caught up in his musings that he had failed to listen to what was going on around him!

Zack whirled around only to encounter a giant fist, landing heavily on his chest. His eyes flew shut for a moment as he stumbled backwards, unprepared for the sudden blow. He staggered into the firelight. That very movement gathered the attention of all those present.

Another fierce blow to the chest and his eyes snapped open again. He noted with dismay that two of the larger demons had managed to sneak up on him and were grinning maliciously as they slowly urged him towards the fire and those gathered behind him.

One of the two demons made another lunge at him, determined to strike yet once more. However, Zack was ready this time. Each breath feeling like he had inhaled fire, he quickly pulled up the Hell Fire and shot them both in the chests. The demons weren't prepared for their prey to fight back and dropped like wet sacks, gaping holes in their torsos.

Zack had no time to gloat over his victory before more demons than he could hope to count piled on top of him. He tried to fight back, limbs flailing in every direction but there were far too many. One wrested his weapon free, another pulled his arms behind his back at rough angles, thereby aggravating the damaged shoulder. The scent of sulfur and fetid breath along with unwashed flesh crowded his senses. He could feel their rough, scaly skin brushing against his, and it sickened him.

One demon drug a blood-stained claw across his cheek, breaking the skin. Zack felt his warm life's fluid dripping down his cheek and hissed with the pain.

Within seconds, he was hauled to his feet quite painfully as the demons whooped and hollered with their prize. He was dragged in front of the monster he assumed to be the leader, grimacing with the pain in his shoulder and weaponless.

"Well," the demon leered, "if you aren't someone to invoke some memories." He growled and reached out with a long talon, cutting another deep slice into Zack's other cheek. "And most of them unpleasant."

"Why have you come here?" Zack demanded, giving another experimental tug on the arms that held him fast. They tightened in their grip and put more pressure on the injured shoulder. He was forced to grit his teeth and bear it.

(Call for me! Call my name!) The words, in the same voice as before, pounded in his mind and his grey eyes slid shut with the resulting headache. He sagged for just a moment in the arms of the demon.

"For you," the leader hissed in response, though Zack barely heard him through the dim.

'Call who? Who are you?' he questioned internally.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed open, in soundless scream as he stared into hate-filled red orbs. Pain and hot fire raced through his abdomen. His neck seemed boneless as his head fell forward, and he looked down with horror to see the end of a razored tail jutting through his abdomen. Blood was already beginning to soak his clothing and drip down his skin beneath the cloth.

_Tentacles… so many tentacles… aiming for his back… his unprotected back, and this time, the voices were calling and a name was ripped from his throat…_

"Heh, heh, just like old times, ne?" With those words spoken, the demon proceeded to withdraw its spiked tail slowly, agonizingly painfully.

"Augh!" Zack screamed, his body arching with the pain as the monster extricated its tail from him. "Why?" he demanded in a broken tone, blood dribbling from where he had bitten his lip. "Why me?"

"I am sad that you don't know me. I am Azamat, though even then you didn't know me as thus." The demon snorted. "All of you pathetic humans have forgotten the Old Ways. I am amazed Gaia didn't erase you when it shattered Meteor."

The last caused a faint stirring of echo in Zack's pain-filled mind. Meteor… fighting Meteor… and Sephiroth? He arched forward instinctively as the name rippled through his subconscious, accompanied by feelings of guilt and dismay. Why… who was that man?

(Call me, you know my name! I am the chaos and the chains!)

"Nothing to say, have you?" Azamat questioned. He laughed as Zack ignored him, head hanging as dizzy spells erupted in his mind and a voice he didn't recognize urged for him to call… call what?

"No matter," waved the demon in dismissal. He turned and started to walk away. "Kill him."

"Er…e…" Zack croaked out in a voice that seemed not of his own. Azamat stopped in his tracks, frowning as he glanced over his shoulder.

"What did you say?" he questioned, voice heavy with anger and the slightest edge of fear.

The name that had been on the top of his tongue again came to mind. Zack held his head up, grey eyes blazing with anger. "Ere… bus!" he called.

In that very same moment that he spoke the word, Azamat shivered with visible fear, the demons cried out in terror, and a terrible darkness fell over those present, cloaking everything in shadow. Not even the light of the fire could be seen. The hands on Zack's arms loosened, and he instinctively kicked backwards and wrenched his way free, diving in a direction he hoped was without enemy.

He came to an abrupt halt at the base of a fire that had suddenly sprung to life in the midst of the darkness, glowing an eerie orange-yellow. Zack struggled to his feet as he gaped in awe at three other fires springing up, to form a square. He could hear the sound of Azamat trying to regain control and the herding of the demons around.

A circle, completely flat began to appear amidst the fires, mysterious incantations written on the round surface. It began to spin; a suspiciously-patterned stone disc rose from the ground. It was followed by four surrounding columns, forming a stage of sorts. A gothic chandelier, suspended in midair above the platform, completed the picture. A pillar of light jutted from the center of the platform and a form began to coalesce.

Zack watched with slack jaw as a heavily cloaked form appeared, the face indiscernible beneath the mask. In its hand was a sickle, the steel of the blade glinting wickedly in the firelight. Without another word, the form finished coalescing and was at once solid, stepping off the platform and swinging its blade in a wide arc. The grey-eyed man heard the strangled screams of demons as they met their end.

Suddenly, the darkness lifted, and the area had become a battlefield. Zack blinked at the sudden change. Azamat was still struggling to regain control as what Zack could only assume was Erebus turned his sickle on the demons.

He heard the growl of a demon and turned in horror to find one getting ready to pounce. It held a sword in one hand and its eyes had flashed crimson already, lost to the battle madness.

"Balaam has called for your death, human…" the demon hissed as it advanced on him.

Zack began to back up slowly, completely defenseless without the Hell Fire and no convenient logs in sight.

"Zack!" called out a voice, raspy with age and echoing of hollow tombs and scattered graveyards. It was a voice that he recognized from repeating in his head.

The dark-haired man turned just in time to see the Hell Fire flying at his face, a glimpse of bony-fingered hands having thrown the weapon. In the same moment he heard the crackling of grass as the demon threw itself at him.

He dove forward, leaping to catch the shot gun in the same moment that he twisted his body to face the nameless demon and pulling the trigger. Crazed eyes were in front of him, far larger than they should have been as the shotgun recoiled in his grasp.

Fetid blood splattered across his face as he crashed to the ground, the body of the demon landing on top of him. He gasped for breath at the weight of the heavier demon and struggled to gain some power over his spinning mind… too much to handle… and far too much blood had drained from his body.

The grey-eyed man had no time to react as he was roughly jerked out from under the body of the beaten beast. Clawed fingers dug into his shoulder and picked him up effortlessly. Zack scrabbled to retain his grip on the Hell Fire as he stumbled to his feet, tripping over his own limbs as rough talons dragged him.

One hand released his shoulder and tangled in his hair, roughly pulling his head back. He gasped and choked, feeling as if his neck was going to snap. He attempted to jab an elbow backwards, hoping to injure the being that held him tightly. The elbow struck hard unyielding chest but had no effect.

Spittle flecked on his face as the maw of Azamat came into view, hissing angrily as his eyes flashed yellow-bright. Earlier they had been crimson…

"I am going to devour you…" the demon growled. The grip on Zack's neck loosened barely, and he was able to speak, sucking in huge gusts of air even as searing pain raced through his shoulder. The demon had come through on his promise, sinking its teeth into the tender skin of his already bruised shoulder.

With his mind dimming with pain, Zack did the only thing his fractured subconscious could think of… he cast.

"Ice!" he gasped out, grabbing onto the claw that held him with his only free hand.

Almost immediately the air around them chilled and a startling cool frost began to spread from the claw up Azamat's body. The demon jerked away at the first touch of ice and released Zack.

The dark-haired man stumbled forward but didn't waste any time in whipping around, pulling up his Hell Fire and pumping the demon so full of lead he wasn't sure if the gun truly held that much ammo. His head spun; he began to shake, but his entire body had gone numb, as if in the battle, adrenaline had replaced pain.

Azamat jerked with each bullet that raced through his body, blood exploding outwards from each fire-filled shell. It wasn't called Hell Fire for no reason.

"Ice!" Zack hissed yet again, casting the only magic he had on hand and watching as it engulfed the body of the demon, throwing shards of razor sharp ice in at Azamat.

Grey eyes watched Azamat's soundless death through vision going blurry. The monster just collapsed to the ground, the silly arrogant smirk still evident on its face. Slowly the body began to dissipate, as if it had never been there to begin with, and in its wake, a small black orb.

He suddenly slipped to one knee, the Hell Fire slipping from his hands. He had lost far too much blood and exerted himself in the process. Eyes flickered over to the right, where Erebus was finishing off the last of the demons.

Perhaps he would die now, and the monsters would no longer come after him. No other innocent lives would be destroyed because of him. Yes, it was better that way.

His head slumped forward and he felt his body slowly falling as he slipped into darkness...

----

As the dark-haired man stood, he stared as the building he'd once called home burned to the ground, becoming an effective tomb for those that had cared for him. It symbolized many things for the rediscovered gunman. He was no longer Zack. He couldn't be. It would be a dishonor to call himself by Granny and Gramps' true son when he had brought their deaths upon them.

No. Things would never be the same again. He had to run now, keeping the beings chasing him away from all others… and still somehow manage to find his true identity. The one whose memories are riddled with blood and pain and feelings of self-loathing. Yet, before his heart could be consumed with sorrow and anger, there was a tiny spark of hope. Somewhere in his past he had learned to love…

The nameless man turned from the burning house and stared across the open expanse in front of him, heading in the general directions of the Gongaga Mountains.

He would take a new name and a new identity. He would be Zack no more. Until he discovered his true self… he would be…

…forsaken.

"Then that is your decision, to go nameless?" a dry voice questioned from beside him, rasping as if very old.

Grey eyes flickered over to the side, taking in the appearance of the owner of the voice. It was Erebus. The demi-god had now started to appear and vanish as he saw fit.

"They shouldn't have saved me…" muttered the dark-haired man. "They should have saved their elixirs for someone more worthy of their kindness. It is because of me that they no longer have any homes." He turned and gazed at the remains of Gongaga, watching with dismay as the towns folk milled about, already rebuilding despite everything that had occurred yesterday.

After the battle with Azamat and after he had slipped into unconsciousness, he had been found by one of the surviving towns people, who had tipped an elixir down his throat, thereby saving his life.

The moment he had recovered he had left the small shelter that had been created and went to the house he had once called home. He could no longer stay in Gongaga… not with the guilt that lay heavy on his heart.

He had spent less than three hours in care of the Gongagans, the elixir healing him remarkably fast. During that time he had caught glimpses of Erebus watching him. Yet, it seemed the residents couldn't see the heavily cloaked figure, so he assumed that only he could see him.

He reached into the pocket of his tattered grayish cloak and pulled out a small black orb. He rolled the ball in his hands, as if fascinated by the swirling convoluted mass of black and purple within it, seemingly like a hard bruise.

Erebus snorted. "Humans are remarkably flexible creatures. They have the ability to bounce back from anything."

"Maybe so. But that doesn't change the fact, that now they have to." The grey-eyed man sighed and placed the marble back into his pocket. It was what remained of Azamat, and he had plans for the item. He would find whoever had directed the demon's attack and demand answers. Maybe then he could find his memory.

He exhaled softly, checked to be sure the Hell Fire was still in its holster, and then turned away from what remained of Gongaga, setting off towards the far off mountains. Erebus fell into easy step beside him.

"You ought not speak aloud," Erebus mused. He jerked his head towards the villagers. "They might think you've gone mad."

The grey-eyed man snorted. "What do I care? Perhaps I already have… my mind is filled with scattered memories and dreams, none of them make sense."

Erebus regarded him thoughtfully from beneath the dark black hood that covered his entire body. "I can't call you human, so what name do you wish I use?"

He shrugged disinterested, until he recalled a memory from his mind. It was scattered as well, but one name did come out sharply. "Call me… Raven…" he suggested, a sardonic grin turning up the corners of his mouth.

"Raven, eh?" the demi-god questioned. His mouth formed a smile as he walked beside his animus. So the dark-haired man did remember some of his past… even if it wasn't whole… perhaps his task would not be so difficult after all.

"Unless, of course, you would be willing to tell me who I am?" Raven questioned, with a raised eyebrow as he cast a sidelong glance at the cloaked man… thing… or whatever Erebus claimed he was.

Erebus shook his head, reaching up with a skeletal hand to pull his hood down further over his face. "I cannot do that. It is not up to me to tell you everything. You must find it on your own."

"Not even my own name?"

Erebus didn't answer, just shaking his head.

Raven growled angrily and stepped up the pace. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"That, my dear animus, is a long story," Erebus began.

Grey eyes darted towards the mountains that seemed so very far in the distance, and the city that lay beyond, Cosmo Canyon as one of the townspeople had called it. There was a man there who was well-learned, or so it was said.

"Its not like we haven't got all day," snorted Raven.

Erebus shrugged the movement almost imperceptible underneath the many flowing robes. "If you insist."

He would have to be careful, to make sure he did not reveal too much before Raven was ready for it. For his sake… and that of Gaia's as well…

----

Ooh, even I had to take a breath on this one.

Review please, I LIVE for them.


	7. Bad News

Special thanks to Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls! Thanks for the great reviews! And thanks to all of you who are reading but can't figure out how to leave a review!

Warnings: Because of the nature of this story, expect each chapter to have at least two scene changes. I want to try and give a more rounded aspect to this than there was in Shattered Ice.

**Chapter 7: Bad News**

Crash!

The ceramic pot fell to the hard wooden floor of the florists shop and shattered into many pieces. It had fallen from limp hands as the red-haired woman brought a hand up to her chest and gasped softly, eyes tearing.

"Mrs. Strife? Mrs. Strife? Are you okay?" came the concerned voice of the cashier from behind the counter. The pretty brunette immediately moved from behind the counter to run to her employer's side.

She placed her hands on the reddish-brown haired woman's shoulders. Her employer was shaking and tears were starting to slip slowly down her face. Concerned brown eyes looked into the confused jade eyes of her boss. Her feet slipped over the shattered remains of the pot but she ignored them, more concerned with her employer

"Calie?" a younger man with dark hair questioned. He had peeked his head out of the back, where he was organizing the stock. He frowned when he noticed the state of their employer

"Derran, go call Cloud!" Calie demanded sharply before returning her attentions to the woman before her. She wasn't assistant manager for nothing.

"It's okay, Aeris," she soothed in a gentler tone as she led her kind employer to one of the empty chairs that they kept on hand for those that wanted to stay and chat.

The flower shop had been a good business for Aeris to start after the initial fall of ShinRa. The residents of Midgar needed some color in their life and living flowers were a good splash of hope. Not that she and Cloud really needed the money, but it was something for her to do with her time and aid in the restoration of the lives ruined by both ShinRa and Sephiroth.

Derran nodded in understanding and rushed for the flower shop phone, hitting the number to Cloud's PHS on speed dial. Some of the customers were milling about, looking on helplessly, unsure what to do with their purchases or even if they should offer some aid.

"Rhayne, get out here and damage control," Derran demanded stiffly as he waited impatiently for someone to answer from the other end. A cheerful voice answered him from the back as a dark curly-haired girl stuck her head out.

She quickly assessed the situation and sprang into action. Rhayne began to gather up the customers and either herd them towards the cash register or away from Aeris and Calie.

"Oh, Calie," Aeris murmured, one of her hands going to her belly protectively. "The Planet is crying…" She rubbed the small mound, feeling the life within stir and kick expectantly.

"What do you mean?" the brunette questioned, furrowing her brow. "Is the baby okay?" She looked into the flower-girl's jade eyes, seeing confusion, pain, and sorrow.

Calie couldn't understand. One moment Aeris was showing a beautiful Sylkis plant to a potential customer, and the next she had dropped the vegetation and started to shake.

Aeris managed a small smile of encouragement. "She is fine, but…" She gasped again, grasping her head with a free hand. "Oh… the threat… Planet is no longer safe… all a ruse…"

(My animus, I am sorry for the pain. Yet, I must show you.) A voice she had grown to recognize and love whispered softly in her mind. A small measure of comfort settled within her.

"Hephaestion," she murmured softly before her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted into unconsciousness, going limp in Calie's arms.

----

Reeve looked up dully as the door to his office slammed open, and an angry blond stormed in, Nanaki, Yuffie, and Archer on his heels. The executive immediately recognized the object in the blond's hands. It was the golden claw that had been found on the shores of Cosmo Canyon area about two weeks after Vincent disappeared.

Cid threw the claw on the desk in front of Reeve. The amber-eyed man looked at it and then the pilot, as if expecting there was something more.

"What the hell, Reeve!" Cid demanded, crossing his arms and glaring angrily at the executive. "I want damn answers, and I better get them fucking now!"

He had spent the entire journey on the airship stewing, getting angrier as time passed. No matter how hard the three currently standing behind him tried to convince him they meant well, he couldn't shake the thought that thanks to them, he might never find Vincent again. Or worse… the gunman was off somewhere alive… thinking that Cid didn't care for him.

"Cid," Archer began from behind him. "You really shouldn't…"

"Shut up!" the pilot fiercely demanded, turning to look over his shoulder and glare at Kyle. "Just shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear nothing from nobody but Mr. President here!" He returned his attentions to the executive, who was slowly rising to his feet.

Reeve cautiously reached out and touched the golden claw, running a finger over the well-cleaned object that had once graced the hand of a friend that was dear to his heart… as they all were. He looked up at Cid with sorrowful eyes, flinching at the anger that he found there.

"What do you want me to say, Cid?" he questioned.

"Dammit!" the Captain cursed, leaning forward and slamming his palms down flat on the desk, shaking it and succeeding in knocking down the pencil cup for the second time that day.

Reeve winced as they crashed to the floor, the sound bringing back memories of why they had fallen earlier… and another time they had fallen before.

"I could have found him! But you had to go and make my own damn decisions for me!" Cid growled. "So tell me why."

"I thought it was the best idea at the time," Reeve began slowly, trying to retain control of the situation before it degraded into a full-blown fist fight. "I had teams scouring the coast up and down for a week straight and…"

"Fuck!" Cid growled, cutting him off in mid-speech. He pushed himself back to a standing position and ran a hand aggravated through his hair while pulling out a cigarette with the other. He placed the stick between his lips and lit it one-handed. "You're only repeatin' what these others told me," he added, throwing a thumb towards Nanaki, Yuffie, and Archer behind him.

Reeve spread his hands placatory. "I don't know what else to say. We were worried about you."

"And that gives you good enough reason to hide something like this from me? For this damn long? Five and a half months?"

Reeve winced, amber-eyes darkening with shadows at the pilot's tone. He sighed and sank back into his chair with a defeated tone. "I am sorry… I made a mistake… I seem to be making lots of those lately…"

It was the weariness in his tone that made the pilot do a double take, getting a good look at his best friend for the first time. It was then that Cid noticed the exhaustion in Reeve's movements and the general sadness that was etched into his features. Some of his anger cooled at the sight, and he forced himself to swallow down the vicious retort. Yelling at Reeve wasn't going to accomplish anything nor would it make him feel any better. The ache was still there, threatening to consume him whole.

"Reeve?" Archer questioned hesitantly. He moved past Cid until he was in the executive's line of sight. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course." The amber-eyed man sighed. "Everything is under control… as it always is," he mumbled the last before turning to look away, out the window that lined the entire wall of his office to the left. Archer had never heard such a defeated tone to his superior's voice before.

Cid ran another hand from his hair and turned away, still knowing he would find it difficult to say anything comforting in his present state. He puffed on his cigarette and strode over to the window, vaguely listening to the conversation transpiring behind him as he attempted to stop his body from beginning to shake.

He closed his eyes to the view afforded by the glass and turned his thoughts towards Vincent. The pilot's heart ached every time he thought of the gunman's name or his crimson eyes or that long beautiful raven hair. So many nights alone in his bed, with no answers or clues to his lover's fate, had left him feeling strangely hollow and cold.

Once more Cid felt that familiar welling of sorrow in his heart and a small shudder of pain raced through his body. He blinked back tears and sucked more furiously on his cigarette, determined to not show his friends how much he still hurt. Lord only knows what else they might try to hide from him.

Reeve watched his movements with a sense of sadness. It seemed he could do nothing right… not by his lover or his friends.

He had tried again earlier to call Reno, but the Turk still hadn't turned on his phone. The red-head was still very much mad at him, and Reeve couldn't even get in contact. It wasn't as if he could just leave his job to go off in search of Reno, regardless of the fact he knew where the Turk was.

"Reeve? Reeve!"

The executive was pulled from his thoughts by the voice of Archer. He looked up and saw the amethyst-eyed man leaning over his desk, waving a hand in front of his face. Amber eyes blinked surprised before he drug himself from his thoughts to pay attention to Kyle.

"What is wrong?" Nanaki asked, taking one of the two free chairs in the room, plopping down with as much as grace as he was given. His tail twitched restlessly next to him.

Reeve sighed and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. "It's all falling apart… I feel like I'm grasping at sand as it slips through my fingers."

Kyle frowned and exchanged glances with Nanaki. He moved back to sit in the other chair. Yuffie looked between the two before deciding to plant herself on the arm of the lion wolf's chair.

"What's falling apart?" questioned Archer gently.

"Everything," Reeve exclaimed exasperated. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, a habit he had never claimed until that moment. It was then that the friends saw his eyes were red-rimmed, as if any moment he might burst out crying.

"Cid's mad. Reno's gone. The damn construction keeps falling to damn pieces, and someone won't stop making threatening phone calls…"

"Whoa!" Nanaki interjected smoothly, holding up a hand to halt the executive in his tracks. "What do you mean Reno is gone?"

Reeve bit his lip and looked over to his right, out the window while his eyes rested on his friend. "We had a fight. He was mad for many reasons… all of which I can't blame him for. He stormed out and … I haven't seen or talked to him since. "

"You two had a fight?" the ninja exclaimed in astonishment. It was hard for her to believe Reeve getting angry enough to scream and yell nor for the seemingly perfect couple to have anything to argue about.

The executive only nodded slowly, drawing more of his lip into his mouth as a lone tear escaped from his eye. He still hadn't returned his attentions to them.

"Yuffie, go and make sure Cid is alright," Nanaki suggested gently.

The ninja turned and regarded him wide grey eyes. He had NOT just attempted to send her away as if she were a child. "Excuse me?" she questioned her tone icy as she had intended it to be.

"Please," Archer urged from the right. "He doesn't need to stand over there alone."

Yuffie opened her mouth to protest and then realized she would just be proving their point. Nodding quickly before she could respond and hit them both, she moved off of the chair and left the three men to their 'adult' business. However, inside she was burning with anger. How dare he!

"What do you mean by threats?" Archer questioned. "You never told me about any…"

"I haven't told anyone except Tseng," interrupted Reeve with a weary sigh. "I mean, they are nothing but idle intimidation by someone, who hasn't benefited from my teardown of ShinRa Corporation."

"What kind of threats?" the demi-human asked. "And I can't believe that Tseng didn't think anything of them."

The President waved a dismissive hand. "The usual, stop what you're doing. or I'll kill you while you're sleeping. I won't let you waste Rufus' money. You are an abomination to ShinRa. You will pay for this."

"And you don't think any of this is perhaps connected to the construction problems?" Archer asked incredulously. "I can't believe you would ignore something so important. Tseng either, for that matter."

Reeve shook his head, a reply on his lips but was interrupted when his phone rang. He reached for the business phone and answered it.

"Tuesti," he said crisply, his tone a bit annoyed at having been disturbed as he discreetly wiped at his eye.

"Sir! Report from the hangar!"

"What is it?" the executive demanded. "I am in an important meeting right now. Tell Karis I will get the fuel usage reports later."

"No, sir! This is important. We received a distress call about ten minutes ago from one of our helicopters in the Gongaga region."

The executive went white, hand tightening on the phone in his hand. "Which one?" He prayed fiercely that it wasn't the answer he was expecting it to be.

"It was the Blackbird, sir. He had said something about the engine making strange noises then all we heard was him frantically trying to get in control as it went down. There has been no radio contact since."

"Oh, gods," Reeve whispered, the phone falling from his fingers. A fierce pain shot through his chest, and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. A hand went to his torso, as if to calm his frantically beating heart.

It was well known that the Blackbird was Reno's helicopter. He was the only one allowed to pilot it and would get quite fierce if someone else touched it. Nanaki darted forward and grabbed the receiver even as Archer stood to his feet.

"What? What is it?"

Nanaki listened calmly to the man on the end of the phone and told him that the President would take care of it before hanging up the receiver. Reeve still looked wide-eyed, his face shockingly pale.

"Reno's helicopter crashed somewhere in the Gongagan area," the demi-human said softly.

"Oh, Levy…" The ninja exhaled from the other side of the room. She and Cid had turned around at the sound of the phone ringing.

Amber orbs looked up, locking gazes with Cid. An unspoken emotion passed between the two men before the pilot nodded slowly.

"I will find him," Cid vowed, without having to be asked aloud. "Call the hospital. Have them send an emergency medical kit to the Highwind. I think Cloud has the Full Cure, and I ran out of elixirs when that box fell on a few of my employees."

The executive nodded dumbly, reaching mechanically for the phone. He had to get back control; he had to be strong, or there was no hope for his lover. Instantly, a wave of guilt passed through his body. What if Reno had died… and there was no chance for them to make amends? What if the Turk had passed thinking that Reeve cared more for his job than he did for him? What if…

Archer took the receiver from his trembling grasp. "I will make the call," he murmured gently. The executive nodded dumbly, allowing the dark-haired man to have the receiver.

"Kyle, you stay here with Reeve. Nanaki, Yuffie, you two are coming with me," ordered Cid, already heading for the door.

Yet, the pilot didn't get far before his phone rang once more. A sense of foreboding filled his heart, and he halted in his movements, deciding to take the call while he was still in Reeve's office.

"Highwind."

"Cid!"

"Rude, what's going on?" the pilot questioned. He looked across the room and traded looks with Archer.

"It's Gongaga," explained the dark-skinned man. Cid could hear quiet sobbing in the back ground. "Something's going on, I don't know what. My mom called, and there was screaming and roaring... Reno went to go check it out."

"You sent him on his own?" the incredulous pilot questioned.

"I wasn't thinking. I was concerned for my mother, and then Reno told me he would go."

Cid cursed angrily. "Stay with Shera. I'll take the brat and Nanaki and go check it out. Reno's helicopter went down, Rude."

There was a moment of silence on the other line before Rude drew in a breath and released it shakily. "By Ishvara…"

"Stay with Shera," the pilot repeated. "I will call you later." Without giving the ex-Turk a chance to respond, Cid slammed the phone shut.

He turned his attention to the four who were waiting patiently for an explanation. "Something's happened in Gongaga. I think it is under attack. Reno was supposed to be on his way there."

Reeve stood to his feet, hand going to one of his desk drawers as he began to rummage around. "I'm coming with you," he said, not expecting any of them to deny him.

"No," Cid retorted with a shake of his head. "You two stay here in case this is bigger than we think." He jerked a hand towards Nanaki and Yuffie. "We'll go check it out."

"Nothing Levy and I can't handle," the lone female agreed with determination set in her features.

"But…" Reeve had protest written all over his features.

"We will find him," the demi-human promised.

The executive sighed and returned to his seat, nodding slightly. "I will concede just this once."

"The medical supplies are on the Highwind," Archer informed as he replaced the receiver.

"Let's go," the Captain commanded. "We have no fucking time to waste."

----

In the middle of the Gongagan forest, a pile of what used to be a ShinRa helicopter was smoldering slightly, little more than twisted metal thanks to its rather rough landing. Small flames were still burning strongly in patches on the forest floor, much of the debris smoking thick and grey.

Suddenly, there was a screech of metal on metal and a piece of the remains went flying as a hand struggled to pull itself free. Red hair emerged, blackened by smoke, followed by a tall, lithe form.

Reno coughed as he pushed himself free from the wreckage, amazed that he had managed to survive whatever the hell had happened to his helicopter. He winced as he pulled at a cut in his back. He could feel the blood beginning to trickle already and knew he would have a scar to join the two on his face soon.

The Turk bent down and dug around in the debris, lucky fingers wrapping around the Electro Rod that was his only survival now. He pulled out the weapon then looked around.

He had landed in the forest somewhere between Cosmo Canyon and Gongaga. He only hoped that his distress call went out and someone was looking for him. At least then someone would find out what was going on in Gongaga.

The red-haired Turk worked his way free of the wreckage, finally collapsing tiredly on the ground a few feet away from the leaning tower of twisted, blackened metal. He panted slightly, the adrenaline from the crash wearing off.

The ground shook just a little, and he heard metal groan moments before a great rending crack filled the air. Reacting completely on impulse, Reno rolled over to the far right just as the helicopter gave one final turn and crashed, missing his lithe form by only a few feet.

It was a close call.

He allowed himself a moment's rest before he dragged his beaten and battered body away from the steaming metal and into the relative protection of the trees. Reno pulled himself to the base of a rather large tree and collapsed against the base of the trunk. He relaxed against the bark, wincing as the slice in his back rubbed against the rough bark.

Closing aquamarine eyes tiredly, Reno laid his head back and reached into his pocket, wondering if his PHS even survived the crash. He came out with a dented but seemingly functional phone. Reno prayed to some god that it would come on as he pressed the power button.

The openings strains of music filled the air as the phone came to life with a flourish. Resisting the urge to cheer happily, and lacking most of the energy to do so, Reno blinked trying to clear his blurry vision. Two more seconds and he would have a signal…

No! The low battery light came on, blinking rapidly before the phone completely shut down. He growled angrily and threw the useless electronic device into the woods behind him.

His back hurt, his head ached, and all he had for company was his weapon. What a fine mess he had gotten into.

"Well, well, well," came a distinctly feminine voice. "If it isn't Reno of the Turks. Fancy meeting you here."

Reno cracked open one tired eye to find he was being stared at by a dark-haired female who was smirking at him.

"I see my plan worked after all then," the woman commented again, in a voice that he recognized, though the name escaped him. His head hurt so badly, and his consciousness was beginning to fade. Reno vaguely remembered slamming his forehead on the control panel and lifted up a shaking hand to his head, coming away with blood on his fingertips. Great… a head wound.

"You will the perfect bait…" she hissed, reaching down and grabbing him by the front of his shirt with one hand.

Reno blinked bleary eyes and responded without thinking, using what was left of his strength to fight back. He flicked the switch for the Electro Rod and lashed out at his attacker blindly, his head spinning with his every moment. He probably had a concussion…

A hand moved quickly, grabbing his arm and the base of the Rod that he held, preventing him from any further movement.

"Wha…?" he slurred, unable to form anything more coherent.

"Sleep," the woman ordered, tightening her grip on his wrist. He hissed with the pain. "Sleep traitor."

Almost immediately Reno felt the attack of the magic on his body. His limbs felt heavy, and his eyelids slid shut of their own accord. His fingers went limp in their grip of his weapon, and his entire body slumped.

"Grab him…" were the last words he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness.

----

Hmmm, wonder who the mysterious female is? Can anyone hazard a guess?

Leave a review before you go, and I will be most appreciative.


	8. The Old Ways

Special thanks to Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls!

(Voice in Mind)

'Inner Thought'

**Chapter 8: The Old Ways**

Raven heaved a deep breath as he pushed his tired limbs to continue walking. Cosmo Canyon couldn't have been much farther. They had spent most of the day before walking, stopping for the night for a rest before continuing in the trek. Erebus had stuck around the whole time, though usually they walked in silence.

The cloaked figure kept glancing to the sky, as if expecting another attack, while Raven was lost in his own internal ponderings. Though he had asked Erebus to tell him what was going on the day before, the demi-god had fallen strangely silent, which was fine for him considering he had much on his mind.

He had dreamed again last night, not that much of it was any use. Just scattered images of the life that he led before, but the most confusing truth was that it seemed there were two separate lives he was remembering. And blood… so much blood. It seemed his memories were covered in it.

There was another pressing memory that was more common than all the others. Apparently, it was that was very important to him, and he could understand why. It was a man… that much he could tell, and they were… together. Funny, but Raven never considered himself the homosexual-type. However, the types of reactions these dreams were stirring in him proved that he loved this person and wanted him for more than just a night. Raven sighed as he wished heartily that the images were clearer.

"Thinking again?" Erebus questioned, disturbing his mental train of thought.

"Hm?" Grey eyes looked up from his inner ponderings and laughed half-heartedly. "Remembering my dreams, don't know why I bother though. It's not like I can tell what's real and what is not."

"Tell me this dream," Erebus suggested. "I might be able to help."

Raven snorted. "You won't even tell me my name, but you will tell what my dreams mean?"

"I can at least point out what's real and what's not."

The dark-haired man shrugged. "They are mostly scattered images. Blood seems to be the first and foremost theme. I see glimpses of faces, a man with glasses, a girl with long brown hair, some spiky-haired kid, and others but no names." He trailed off.

"That's it?" Erebus questioned, shaking his head. "That doesn't seem like much."

"No, there is one other. It is more prevalent than the others. I can't see a face, but I can smell cigarettes and tea… always the taste of tea. And I can hear him. I have the sense that if I were to meet him in real life, I would instantly recognize the voice. The background might change but those impressions remain the same. I have the feeling that we were…"

"Intimate?" the demi-god suggested, laughing at the way his animus, flushed with embarrassment.

"Yes," Raven retorted shortly, cheeks still burning. "If you must know."

"Why are you so embarrassed?" the cloaked being queried, trying to restrain his laughter. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

The dark-haired man glared and turned his head away from Erebus. He wasn't going to respond so long as his cheeks were still burning.

Erebus shook his head. "I wish I could tell you, Raven; I sorely do. But let me at least say that all of those images are valid memories."

Raven listened intently to what the hooded man had told him. He returned to his inner musings, contemplating his dreams once more. He had searched his scattered thoughts in vain; to try and find any reference to the mysterious companion he now traveled with. Yet, he only came up with more questions.

"Yesterday, you didn't answer me. So today, I ask again," Raven began thoughtfully. "What are you?"

Erebus startled for a moment before uttering a small chuckle. "I was wondering how long it would take before you questioned again."

"My curiosity got the better of me," the other remarked dryly. "Are you going to answer?"

The hooded figure laughed again. "Patience was a virtue it seemed you lost with your memories."

Raven snorted but didn't say anything, waiting for Erebus to continue. He waved a hand at the cloaked man to urge him on.

"Erebus is who I am in truth, though that name was lost long ago," the cloaked demi-god mused aloud. "But that would be starting at the beginning, which isn't going to work in this situation."

"You humans know me as Hades, a mere summon, whose power is contained in the red materia. However, that is not what I am. In truth, I am a demi-god far more powerful than you can even imagine. I only adopted Hades when I allowed a portion of my power into the summon materia."

"Why didn't you speak to me before?" Raven questioned, interrupting the demi-god in his explanation.

"Believe me, I have tried. Yet, for six months you ignored me." Erebus sighed and paused a moment. "Before that, there were other voices drowning me out, much louder ones. Perhaps the main reason, however, was the fact that the residents of this planet have long forgotten how to hear the voices of their anima."

"Anima?" the grey-eyed man asked with interest. "You did call me animus… didn't you?"

Erebus nodded the movement barely noticeable beneath the thick hood. "Long ago, the residents of this planet, those of significant power anyways, were associated with the spirit of a demi-god. Each had their own that was specific to their abilities. They could call upon their anima when in battle, no magic needed, and the demi-god would automatically come to their aid. Yet, the knowledge of the Old Ways has since been lost, the true names forgotten, and man has had to resort to materia."

"What caused the loss?" Raven asked quietly. It was all very interesting to him. He had never heard of anima and animus. Then again… his memory wasn't exactly the most reliable.

"There was a war," the demi-god replied after a moment. The hand clutching the reaper tightened in its grip. "Some among us decided that they weren't happy being just demi-gods and planned a revolt, hoping to become more powerful. All of Gaia was at war as anima and their animus fought against each other. Humans took part in this battle, as well."

"Why? What did the power struggle of a group of demi-gods have to do with humans?" the dark-haired man questioned, genuinely surprised. There was a sudden twinge in his back which shot a stab of pain throughout his body. He gasped softly at the unexpected pain.

Erebus shot him a look that the grey-eyed man did not catch. Raven was too absorbed in trying not to wince as his shoulder blades ached. It was as if his body had just reacted on its own to his question.

"Those that were linked by the animum bond refused to sit back and watch," Erebus sighed as he recalled the war that happened such a long time ago. "There is also the fact that in many bondings, power and strength are shared between the anima and animus. A demi-god is powerful but by the bond it increases tenfold, often relying on the strength of their animus."

Vincent nodded slowly as he listened. "So the bonding is more than just an easy way to summon," he mused aloud. "One could say that it makes both more powerful than they would be on their own."

"Precisely," agreed Erebus. He was a quiet for a moment, before he continued with his history lesson.

"The battle was harsh. The day sky was darkened, the night alight with power. Seasons changed their course… the battle lasted for a long time. In fact, the huge depression on the Midgarian continent is a result of a clash between Seiryu and Daunte. Finally, they were defeated, the uprising stalled. The creator-"

"Kami?" (1)

"Yes, Kami. He decided as punishment to lock the main instigators in four black orbs of materia and banished them to the Lost Grounds. In order to prevent such an event from occurring again, we were forced to give up our power for a time in order to prove our trustworthiness. In that short while, the inhabitants of Gaia forgot about us."

Raven absorbed Erebus' words, trying to understand the massive amount of information that he had been presented with. His back still twinged slightly, but the pain had settled to a dull ache.

"Am I to assume that you are my anima?" Raven questioned.

The demi-god laughed, a dry and raspy sound echoing through the air. "Yes, we are linked."

"Then why do I have another voice in my head?"

Erebus drew up short in surprise, halting abruptly. He looked up, the hood falling from his face just enough to reveal a bit of bleached white bone that comprised his skull. The demi-god's physical form was little more than a skeleton wrapped in billowing, if not tattered, black robes.

Raven stopped walking, glad for the moment's rest, to turn and give his anima a raised eyebrow glance. Apparently his words had startled the demi-god.

"You hear… others?" the summon asked, an unfamiliar tone to his voice.

The dark-haired man shook his head in response. "Not others… just one. And it's not really like a voice… more like a presence pressing in on my mind. I can't really understand what it is trying to tell me, like the words are coming from a filter."

The demi-god frowned as he considered the words of his animus. It could be Baal trying to get through to him, because he didn't sense any of the four still connected. But then again, Balaam and the boy might still have a bond since they spent so long enjoined. In all likely hood, however, it was just Baal trying to get through. Since he wasn't officially Raven's anima… eh… that part did get semi-complicated… but no matter, he couldn't speak as clearly as Erebus could.

"Don't worry. It will become clearer with time," the demi-god responded, wishing he could say more. But it wasn't up to him to tell Raven about his past, nor could he tell the dark-haired man the name of the voice either. That would ruin the potential animum bond.

"There it is," Raven murmured, grey eyes looking down at the landscape below them. Cosmo Canyon was sitting there, only another hour or so walk away.

"I'm going to leave for now. Seek out Bugenhagen. He may be able to help you," suggested Erebus.

"Hmph," muttered the dark-haired man. "You do as you will anyways." However, his words were spoken to thin air. The demi-god had already disappeared. Shaking his head at the behavior of his anima, Raven continued on his way towards Cosmo Canyon.

One name stayed fresh in his mind. 'Bugenhagen…"

----

Eyes of jade stone fluttered softly before opening quickly, looking straight into the worried mako eyes of her husband. Aeris sighed softly and shifted, uncomfortable as she had not changed position since passing out.

Cloud had rushed home the moment he had received the phone call, worried for both his child and his wife.

"Oh, gods, I was so worried," the blond commented from his position at the side of her bed. He breathed a sigh of relief. The former terrorist leader leaned down and ran a caring hand across his wife's pale face before gently kissing her on the lips. She returned the soft press eagerly.

With a small sigh of content, Cloud pulled back and locked eyes with his wife once more. "What happened?"

Aeris frowned slightly as she tried to pull herself into a sitting position, her husband giving her a hand. "Alexander has been speaking to me. And earlier, he… showed me."

Cloud furrowed his brow in confusion. "Showed you what?"

The flower-girl shook her head, reddish-brown tresses settling around her ovaline face. "It's not over yet… Jenova and Sephiroth… they were merely catalysts. History is repeating itself. Only this time, we might not win." She trailed off, biting her lip with her frustration.

"What are you talking about?" asked Cloud. "Sweetie, you're not making much sense."

"Do you have any summon materia on you? Any at all?"

Cloud sighed and pulled out his armlet that he had taken off when he got home. Among some of the other materia he had three of the red orbs. He showed them to her and frowned when he saw the darkened expression on her face. She took the armlet from him and ran her fingers over the three red globes. One looked darker than the rest.

"It has begun," she sighed, shaking her head at the darkened Choco/Mog materia. It looked like nothing more special than an empty marble.

Cloud frowned again as he looked to his materia. "But Shiva is still fine…"

"Perhaps she chose us," Aeris mused quietly.

(The decisions have been made, the sides drawn.) Hephaestion's voice echoed inside her head and she closed her eyes to listen to him.

'What can we do now?'

(You, the demi-human, and one other are the only ones who have contacted their anima. Without the strength of that bond, there is no way that we will overcome.)

"Aeris?" Cloud questioned when he noticed her eyes closed and a look of concentration on her face.

She reached out blindly to grasp his hand before shushing him gently.

'What would you have me to?'

Hephaestion chuckled at her words. (Tell your husband to simply listen and quit ignoring his senses. For now, that will suffice. But rest as well, for the sake of your child.)

Aeris smiled and opened her jade eyes. Cloud was frowning and looking worried, his forehead drawn into tight wrinkles already. She couldn't help the giggle that broke out.

"You're going to get wrinkles if you keep that up," she teased, running a hand over the lines in his forehead.

He sighed and attempted to loosen up his face. "If you wouldn't worry me so much…"

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling him in close to her so that they could share another kiss. She leaned her forehead against his and looked straight into his mako blue eyes. "Alexander says for you to listen and quit ignoring that tiny voice at the edge of your mind."

The blond scoffed but quickly caught his wife's lips in another kiss. "Get some rest. I'm going to make some phone calls."

She smiled as he helped her lay back down and get comfortable. "Just listen, Cloud." Aeris called after him in a sleepy tone. He gave her a smile and closed the door gently behind him.

----

Cid shifted uncomfortably as he stood in the cockpit and waited for the Highwind to set down just outside of Gongaga. From what he had seen, it looked like the entire town had been blown up and set upon by an army. He was comforted somewhat by the forms he could see milling about but not by the thin streams of grayish-black smoke still rising from the remains of their homes.

Nanaki and Yuffie stood on either side of him, looking at Gongaga just as he was. The ninja was horrified; her eyes wide with the obvious lack of peace that they had come to believe might be possible. Her hand had moved to her mouth, and her grey eyes even glazed over with the impending tears. Nanaki was watching with a calm detachment, as if he were burying everything beneath, so that it could not hurt him. Too opposite ways of dealing, and Cid recognized them both.

The airship landed with only a slight thump, and the two turned to look at the pilot.

"You two go on and see what happened. I'm going to see if I can find Reno," Cid ordered.

"I can go on my own," Nanaki interjected. "Maybe Yuffie should stay with you."

The ninja sighed loudly and glared at her friend. "I don't know what you think you are doing, but I believe I can handle it."

Cid looked between the two best friends with a bit of surprise. They were arguing, which was unusual.

"I just thought that…" the demi-human began.

However, he never got to finish as Yuffie interjected, "Yeah, well, stop. I am not a child." She huffed and stormed away from the two men, heading for the exit and assumingly the cargo bay, as well, where Cid had already had the crew lowering the entrance ramp.

"What was that about?" the pilot asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Nanaki sighed. "She's still mad about what happened in Midgar. You go find Reno, we'll see what happened here."

Cid nodded as the red-head walked off, following after Yuffie. It seemed like everything was going to shit in Gaia. Reeve and Reno were arguing, and then the Turk disappeared. Gongaga was attacked, and Rude's mother lived there. Vincent was still missing. He tried to push down the stab of pain in his heart at that recollection and concentrated on waiting for the confirmation from the loading dock that the two disembarked before he took off.

He continued to stare out the window, wondering what on Gaia had happened in Gongaga. It definitely appeared as if it had been attacked by something. However, Sephiroth was dead… ShinRa disbanded… so the only possible guess could have been that the monsters had suddenly gotten together and decided to wreak havoc. Yet, that idea was more frightening than Sephiroth returning to the world of the living.

"All clear, Captain," the voice of the attendant came on the intercom. Cid acknowledged him before nodding his head at the pilot. He felt the airship begin to rise off the ground and within seconds they were in the air.

"Fly low and slow between here and Gongaga," the blond ordered. "We are looking for signs of a crash."

"Yes, sir," came the combined answers of his crew.

Satisfied that they would do their job as he had trained them, he returned his attentions to the window and moved a little closer to it, so that he could see outside. The ground whizzed by, though at a slower pace than usual. It was mostly a monotonous litany of various shades of green, but, as of yet, he didn't see anything vaguely resembling a helicopter crash.

As much as Cid was angry with Reeve, he sincerely hoped that Reno was okay. He didn't want to see his best friend have to face the same kind of sorrow as he. The uncertainty of not knowing what happened to the one you loved was the type of pain that pulled at your heart and didn't let go.

Every night he still dreamed of Vincent from the time that they first met in his rocket in Rocket Town… to the time when they were last intimate together, when the gunman had given Cid his most precious gift… that of his trust. Those memories haunted him, flickering across his subconscious during the day and playing through his night like some sort of sad movie while he slept.

He wanted Vincent back in his arms so badly it was palpable. There was a continuous aching in his heart that wouldn't heal and wouldn't fade. Not that he wanted it too. It was the pain that made him realize he was still alive.

And he knew that Vincent wouldn't have wanted him to act this way. He knew that the gunman would be mad if he knew that Cid was spending the rest of his life pining after him. But the blond couldn't help it. He just wouldn't accept that the ex-Turk was gone. Not when he had loved him so much.

"Captain, there is something on the radar," one of his technicians called out.

Cid was disrupted from his thoughts by the voice and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He turned from the window and walked to the control panel that housed the display for the radar and other such important devices. The curly-haired male sitting at the dial, scooted his chair over so that Cid could stand next to him and pointed at something on the screen.

The pilot leaned over to look at the display and the odd-shaped blip that they were fast approaching. It didn't really look like anything which meant it could have been wreckage or something.

"Heat sensors sense a small source of heat to the northwest," commented another technician, this one on the panel just behind Cid.

"How large?" Cid asked, turning to face her.

The female shook her head. "Not much. Could be the result of a small blaze or an engine cooling, I can't say."

"Captain, I think you should see this," his pilot stated from the helm. He was looking towards the window, his eyes locked on something.

The blond turned from the control panels and moved to stand beside the pilot. His blue eyes followed the man's gaze, finally settling on a small stream of grey smoke from the forest at the base of the mountains just ahead of them. It was relatively close to the borders of the trees and wouldn't take much to get to.

"Land on the outskirts of the forest," Cid ordered, already grabbing his spear to check for his materia and heading for the cargo bay. "I'm going to check it out."

The pilot nodded in understanding and grimly set his chin to the task before him. He started to call out to the other technicians, to get readings and such for a proper landing as Cid headed out of the cock pit for the elevator that would take him to the cargo bay.

He restlessly ran his fingers over the materia in his spear, wondering what it was he would find at the site that he could only assume belonged to Reno's helicopter. He had his mastered Ice and Diablos still, though the materia remained dark. He missed Jade Tiger at times… that summon had been lost with Vincent. Yet, he never once regretted giving it to him.

The elevator dinged, and Cid stepped out of the confining metal, heading to where the exit ramp was already being lowered. The attendant tipped a hat at him as he left the airship and headed for the forest.

Down on the ground, the smoke looked even more dark and full. Like the fuel tank had exploded or something. It wasn't comforting in the slightest. Cid sighed and slung the Venus Gospel over his shoulder as he stepped beneath the first bit of the trees, relying on the dark column of smoke to guide him.

The forest was eerily silent as he entered and there was no sign of the usual predators of Frogs and Kimara bug's. He could hear the crunch of his boots over the leaves below him and the sound of him moving through the under brush but that was it. He wondered if the monsters knew something that he didn't.

The acrid odor of burning metal assaulted his nostrils as well as that of spilled fuel. Just beyond his line of sight, he could make out the glint of grey metal peeking through the branches in the tree. Again he prayed to whatever deity that he could find Reno alive.

He stepped through the last line of trees and into the small clearing made by the helicopter crash. The machine looked like it had gone through hell. The twisted wreckage barely resembled a helicopter much less something workable.

Cid approached the still smoldering wreckage with a bit of reluctance, easily moving around some of the scattered debris.

"Reno?" he called out tentatively, unsure if he really expected an answer or not.

He reached out a hand and tested the temperature of the metal. It wasn't too hot for him to climb on. He jabbed the spear down into the ground. Slowly and carefully, Cid hefted himself up and started spider walking across the surface, heading for what he assumed was the cockpit.

The helicopter was lying on its side mostly; it appeared to have rolled quite a few times. The tail end was bent backwards until the end rudder was poking in through the cockpit window. Cid hoped that that wasn't what had happened to Reno, that somehow the red-head had avoided getting speared by the sharp tip of a helicopter blade.

The Captain peered in through the front window and saw that the passenger and pilot seat were both empty, but the smear of blood on the head of the pilot side gave him no comfort. He crawled to the edge of the door and looked down inside. It was semi-dark, but from his initial guess he could tell that it was empty.

The helicopter groaned as he leaned in and Cid froze. The wreckage leaned and shifted, forcing Cid to throw himself flat against it and cling, hoping to not get rolled over on. It groaned once more, shifted, and then settled into place.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the pilot waited a moment before carefully lowering himself into the cockpit of the helicopter. After a few seconds of poking around, Cid confirmed what he had already guessed. It was empty.

The blond carefully climbed out of the ruined helicopter and was more than grateful when his feet were on solid ground. He grabbed his spear and circled the area, searching for any signs of the Turk.

Five minutes later, he still hadn't found anything, not a sign. Cid wasn't exactly skilled in wood-lore, so there was no way he would be able to try and track him. Besides, if Reno had made a distress call, he would have known to stay put and wait for someone to come.

Sighing to himself in worry, Cid started to head back towards his airship, pulling out his PHS as he walked. He dialed a number he knew by heart and waited for someone on the other end to pick up.

"Cid? What did you find?"

It was Archer who answered. "Where is Reeve, Kyle?"

"Sleeping. I made him lie down before he gave himself a coronary or something. What's up?"

The pilot sighed in frustration as he trekked back towards his airship. "I found the helicopter… some blood but no sign of Reno. He's alive… I can guess that much but as to where he is. I haven't a clue."

"Damn!" Archer's angry curse echoed throughout the phone. "And he would have known to stay put…"

"Exactly. I'm going to go to Gongaga and see if they know anything. Have Yuffie or Nanaki called you?"

"No. Listen, I'm going to let Reeve sleep a minute before I tell him. I will call Tseng and Elena, though; perhaps they can help."

"I will call you later with results. Bye." Cid hung up the phone without waiting for a response. He pushed the PHS back into his pocket and continued through the forest.

No, things weren't going well at all…

----

(1) Kami is the Japanese word for God, for those of you who didn't know that. I had a reviewer on AFF ask me so I decided to clarify. Here I am using it as a general term, basically for the God of the demi-gods, kind of like, the ultimate God.

A bit of a slow chapter as some bits of plot peek through…. feel free to send me some of your comments.


	9. Declarations of War

**Thanks to my reviewers Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls!**

**(Voice in Head)**

**Inner Thought'**

**Chapter 9: Declarations of War**

It was a most familiar scene; that of a darkened cavern buried deep within the mountains on a forgotten island. At first there was nothing visible save the impenetrable dark. Then, one by one, a series of torches began to light in a long line, until the entire cavern was illuminated. However, the scene this time was much more horrifying than before.

It was crowded, the cavern filled with the stench of unwashed demons and monsters, dried blood, and foul breath. The throne at one end was still inhabited by the shadow, but it seemed to have hardened some, forming into a shape now with the bottom coalescing into something reminiscent of legs. The crimson eyes still shone with ferocity, the malevolent evil in them apparent.

The cavern was filled with evil creatures; bloodlust and destruction were the most powerful emotion radiating through the room. There were many more of the larger demons than before, though there seemed to be a slight decrease in the number of lesser beasts.

A dark red and brown demon stood in one of the corners, an arm folded about his chest. His grayish cloak fluttered as he shifted to lean against the stone wall. Two horns, so long that they curved back down nearly to his shoulders, jutted from his forehead. It observed the antics of the other, lesser, demons with a perpetual scowl.

One the other side, there was a purplish-blue blob-like monster with large yellow eyes. It possessed a rather ridiculous looking head with an explosion of strange hair that was purple and tinged with yellow. Its wine-colored cloak shifted in the slight breeze.

Nearby, a pair of demons, which looked very much alike, was it not for the major size difference, stood next to each other, consistently elbowing one another in the sides and playing rock-paper-scissors.

There was a green-skinned creature wearing a brownish-yellow robe over much of its body. However, the garment couldn't quite cover the stubbish tail that peeked stubbornly out the bottom. In its hands the monster clutched a swinging lantern and a rusty looking knife, which was covered in dried blood. Its large soulless eyes seemingly peered at nothing.

There were many others, as well. It would take days to describe the creatures all gathered there. Days it seemed, the world might not have.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd of evil-doers. The group began to part ways as a small demon, one of the lower ones, limped its way through the crowd. One of its legs was twisted at an odd angle, causing the minor demon to wince with each step. The wings were tattered and didn't appear to even be able to support any weight.

The room fell completely silent as the defeated looking demon limped its way to through the crowd until it managed to stand before the throne, wincing when the full power of the gaze of the crimson-eyed shadow fell upon him.

"Where is Azamat?" Balaam demanded angrily, his voice echoing through out the room. Many of the creatures present flinched. Balaam was the strongest of them and easily capable of flattening any there.

The beaten demon cowered on the floor, making itself prostrate before the shadow as it blubbered out its story. "He put up… resistance. The host is not as weak as we think…"

"You mean to tell me that you were beaten by one man?" Balaam roared angrily. Some of the weaker demons cried out in fear and ran from the room, unwilling to have to see his anger.

The cowed bat creature on the floor began to whimper softly, pressing its face to the floor as close as possible. "It wasn't just him… there was HIM as well. The one who betrayed us."

"Who?" Balaam demanded, his crimson eyes flashing furiously. "Speak now, or I will crush you where you lay!"

"Erebus!" the demon whined. "It was that foul traitor, Erebus!"

A murmur of recognition went through the crowd as something of the demons began to converse among themselves. Of the demi-gods that were to join their side, it was long assumed that both Erebus and Baal would join them. However, the two demi-gods had refused and sided with the humans.

The wave of pure fury that passed through the room was more than enough to send all gathered to their demons. The shadow on the throne rippled with its anger as eyes flared so brightly that they lit that part of the room in a crimson glow.

"The host lives then?" Balaam roared in question.

"Yes, sir," continued the bat demon in a small voice. "We failed."

The room went silent as all waited for their leader's response to that. A stream of shadow shot from the throne and wrapped itself around the bat demon. The beast had no time to protest as the wisp coiled around its neck. The demon choked and protested feebly, but it was to no avail. After a few moments, the limp body of the strangled creature soared across the room like a limp rag.

Balaam chuckled darkly and retracted his limb of shadow. "That weak link has been disposed of properly."

"But, sir," Daunte questioned, coming forward. "What are we to do about the host now?"

Rage still flowed from Balaam in waves, despite his obvious attempt to ease his fury. "We go with the plan. The attacks will commence in a few hours. Erebus may think that he can thwart us, but he vastly underestimates my reach."

"Are the targets still the same?" the purple-skinned creature lisped from the corner.

Balaam laughed manically, his dark voice sending ripples of fear throughout the crowd. "Make no mistake; I change my plans for nothing, and failure is not an option… lest you face the fate of that one." He casually indicated the fallen monster.

The crimson eyes gazed out over the group, taking in his army that would soon overrun Gaia. Yet, first… certain towns had to fall in order to weaken the humans. And Balaam knew just where to begin.

----

"Elena! Duck!"

The blonde Turk threw herself to the ground just as a stream of pointed yellow feathers flew by her head, tipped with green, acidic poison.

The yellow-feathered monster roared angrily at the miss and shot a pair of tentacles at Elena. However, before they could land, the appendages were sliced to bits by a pair of katanas.

Elena countered by throwing a Fire 3 spell at the Chocobo/Marlboro creature, an escaped example of Hojo's lab from Midgar. The fire blazed on the monster, setting its feathers alight, and it keened in agony as parts of its skin scuffed off. The smell of blackened flesh wafted through the area causing the blonde to wrinkle her nose in disgust as she pushed herself up from the ground.

The dark-haired male took this opportunity to slash viciously at the lab-reject, slicking off its yellow-feathered wings and stabbing it through the mid-section. The shots of a sniper rifle filled the air as green blood gushed from many wounds.

Tseng backed off from the monster, blood dripping from his twin katanas and moved aside so that Elena could fire the killing blow. A boom resounded through the air, and the monster gave one last howl of agony before falling over to the ground with a wet squelch.

Shaking his head in disgust, Tseng wiped his silvery blades on the ground before returning them to their matching sheaths on his back. Instead of the traditional Turk uniform, he had taken to dressing like those in his home land. He now wore a hakama and gi in dark blue with silver trim. He had also given up the gun, instead opting for his favored weapons, the twin katanas.

Elena sauntered up to the corpse and kicked it in repulsion. She, too, had given up on the Turk ensemble, unlike Reno, who was still satisfied with his, and now wore a pair of loose fitting black Capri's and a green long-sleeved but quite comfortable business shirt.

This latest creation of Hojo's had escaped from the abandoned ShinRa building and into the tunnels that led out of Midgar. It was now in the open plains just outside of Kalm, determined to wreak havoc. The somewhat silly looking beast had been an attempt on crossing a Chocobo and Marlboro, which was apparent from its body that was covered in yellow feathers and a pair of flaccid wings sprouted from its back.

"Gah! We ought to just blow the damn place up!" Elena commented, patting her rifle lovingly.

"Elena," Tseng began softly, intent on chiding her. "You know we cannot do that."

"Well, it would sure save us a lot of trouble," she grumbled once they were certain that the creature was dead. She started to reload her rifle, just in case they ran into any trouble on their way to Kalm, where they planned on taking a much needed break.

With the defeat of Sephiroth and subsequent Reeve-takeover of ShinRa, they had a choice in keeping their jobs. As Turks, their new assignments were to destroy all threats and help protect the president. Currently, the odd Chocoboro was their newest assignment.

"Then what would we do with all our free time?" Tseng questioned teasingly as he mentally went over the battle in his head. Their reaction time was slow at a few points, and one of those tentacles had gotten dangerously close. Next time he would have to be sure that they had a stronger materia. Who knows what would have happened if the Chocoboro had had enough sense to use its wings?

"Boss? Hello? Gaia to Tseng?" Elena was standing in front of him and watching him bemusedly. He looked up at her with a confused expression on his face. "Battle tactics, again?"

"Something like that," he responded, waving a hand of dismissal. "Come on, I am dying for a drink."

However, before he could get very far, the PHS in his pocket went off, causing both Turks to jump in surprise. Shrugging more to himself than to her, Tseng reached into his pocket and pulled out the slim, technological phone.

"Yes?" It was Archer, Tseng recognized the voice. He continued walking towards the cycle that Elena and he were sharing as their chase required speed and not style. The blonde walked at his side.

"Tseng? I need you and Elena to come back to Midgar," Archer explained, his loud voice easily conveying to the woman, too.

The blonde frowned and took a step closer, so she could better hear.

"Is something wrong?" Tseng questioned with a business-like frown, toying with a thread on his gi.

"Reno's gone missing, pal."

"How the hell did that boy get lost?" Elena questioned out loud in disbelief. She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air before mumbling something to herself about idiot red-heads that needed to grow up.

"Dammit!" the Wutaiian cursed, running an angry hand through his hair. "I told Reeve to take those threats more seriously!"

"It's not as simple as that," Archer stated slowly. "His helicopter went down in Gongaga, and he wasn't found anywhere near it."

"What was he doing there?" Tseng inquired, eyebrows twitching. "I thought he was on protection duty?"

Archer sighed, the exhale noisy through the phone. "He and Reeve had… a fight. Reno went to Rocket Town to cool down, and while he was there, he learned about Gongaga getting attacked. Worried about Rude's mother, he was on his way to check it out when we got a distress call. Cid went to that area to find him but only found the wreckage."

"What do you mean Gongaga has been attacked?" Tseng climbed onto the cycle but didn't start it up until he got off the phone. Elena clambered up behind him, easily relaxing into the second seat, where she twisted her body, so that she could put her rifle in the storage compartment.

"Look, I will explain more when you get here." Archer sighed once more. "I've got to go check on Reeve and call Cloud, as well."

"Fine," agreed Tseng. "See you in an hour." He flipped the phone shut and stuffed it back into his pocket.

"Looks like that mini-break is off," Elena commented softly, idly pushing back a lock of loose hair.

Tseng didn't answer, mind already preoccupied with trying to figure out where his second-in-command could have disappeared to. He reached forward and started up the cycle. It snarled to life, and he turned it towards Midgar. Without another word spoken, he and Elena roared towards the Neo ShinRa corporate offices.

----

Raven tried to ignore the odd looks that he was given, he really tried. However, it was rather difficult. Every where he turned he was stared at by male and female alike, but he couldn't understand why. He had cleaned up before he entered Cosmo Canyon and even wiped down his cloak so that it wasn't so travel-stained. He held his scarred hand beneath the grey fabric and even managed a smile or two for the locals. Yet, they were all eyeing him as if he were the catch of the day, and it bothered him.

He had wandered around for an hour, touring aimlessly until he worked up the courage to ask a stranger where he could find Bugenhagen. Then he had been given a series of confusing directions that involved many stairs and doors until his head was spinning. After seeing the look of complete bewilderment on Raven's face, the kindly old man had taken another approach.

"Just go up," he had said. "When you can't go any further, you know you are there."

And so he had started to walk, in and out of the caverns carved into the mountains that formed Cosmo Canyon. He climbed stairs and ladders, occasionally asking for directions to make sure he was on the right path. One time he had nearly gotten waylaid by the lady from the weapons shop.

She was dying to hold the Hell Fire, but he was worried she might take off with it, judging by the sparkle in her eye. He had to politely excuse himself and extricate his arm from her grasp. In the back of his subconscious, he could vaguely hear Erebus chuckling at him, and he cursed the demi-god thoroughly.

Finally, one hour and many moments of sweating later, he stood at the top of the last ladder and looked upon a house with a giant observatory built into the top. This was the home of the oldest, wisest man, Bugenhagen.

He was a bit nervous, not even sure what he was going to say to the name. How exactly did one go about that type of thing? Just wander in and ask if he was recognizable or not? Raven scoffed at the idea.

He walked up to the door a bit hesitantly and briefly considered just turning back. Yet, the desire to find out who he was pumped strongly in his heart. Steeling his courage, Raven lifted a hand and knocked three times on the wooden door.

"Oh? Visitors?" a voice came from behind the door.

Raven shifted uncomfortably as he waited for someone to answer. When the door opened and a sliver of light fell on him, he was momentarily blinded. Once he had adjusted, he opened his eyes and found himself looking at what had to be one of the oldest humans on Gaia.

Bugenhagen had a long, snowy white beard that hung to nearly his ankles, but his head was completely bare on top. He wore long flowing robes, which completely covered his feet. His blue eyes were sparkling with kindness.

"Oh? Can I help you?" the man questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Raven stepped forward so that Bugenhagen could see him better. "My name is… well, for now it is Raven, and I was told that you could help me."

The elderly sage cocked his head to the side as he took in the stranger's appearance. His eyes widened slightly as if in recognition before he stepped aside. "Come in, Raven. I am not sure what you need but I will try to help."

Raven allowed himself a small smile of gratitude and entered into the warm and gently lit house, completely missing the contemplative look on the older man's face. He stood just inside the doorway for a moment, as if unsure what to do, before taking a seat on the couch. He sat stiffly, as if he wasn't that sure of himself.

Bugenhagen floated in and took a seat in his normal chair. "So why come to an old man for help?"

(He looks familiar, no?) came a most recognized voice in his head.

The older man smiled at the words. Aye, but let's not be hasty.'

The grey-eyed man flushed. "A friend told me that you could help me."

The elder regarded him almost amused. "With what?"

"I don't know who I am," Raven began slowly, shifting in his seat. "I lost my memory, and I need to know who I am."

Bugenhagen smiled then and rose from his seat. "I have a feeling this may take awhile. Would you like some tea?"

Raven nodded quietly. The elder moved into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room. The grey-eyed man took the opportunity to look around the living room, taking in the beautifully woven tapestry-like decorations and the few pictures that were scattered about.

Curious about the people, Raven stood up from the couch and moved to get a closer look. One picture had a red-headed male with surprisingly enough, a tail, smiling broadly at the camera as he sparred with a shorter dark-haired female. She wore very little clothing and seemed young, perhaps not yet twenty, not that Raven was a good judge of age.

He moved to the next one. It appeared to be at a celebration of some sort. There were two men in the picture, but they were also surrounded by a bunch of the others. The look of joy on the dark-headed one's face was reflected by that of the red-head. The same demi-human from the previous picture was clapping the dark-haired man on the back as if in congratulations.

The next picture was of a regal looking lion-type wolf with shockingly bright orangish-red fur. He was posed on the edge of a cliff looking towards the ocean and seemed very sure of himself. Raven couldn't help but wonder who these people were and couldn't ignore the small stab of recognition that echoed through this heart. Somehow he knew them… but their names seemed to escape him.

"That is Seto, Nanaki's father," Bugenhagen's voice came from the doorway. Raven looked up in surprise, stumbling a bit as he backed away and moved towards the chair.

"I am sorry. I was just…"

Bugenhagen cut him off with a smile and set the small tray of tea and such items on the table. "Quite alright. Though I must apologize for the taste of the tea. My grandson, who usually brews it for me, is away right now with his friend." He gestured towards the pictures. "He was the one sparring with the girl."

Raven nodded and reached for a cup, content to drink the liquid black. It was how he liked it. "Is he… Nanaki then?"

The elder smiled. "Yes. Something remarkable has happened to him, and now he is in a human-like form, though I can't begin to imagine why. The girl, her name is Yuffie. They are good friends from the battle against Sephiroth."

Raven frowned. There was that name again… Sephiroth. He felt as if he should know it or at least that person. He took a sip of the tea to disguise his eternal thoughts. It was then that he felt eyes on him. He looked up startled to find Bugenhagen watching him closely.

(Much has changed.)

That it has, Isis,' confirmed the elder man in his head, agreeing with his anima.

"Yes?" Raven questioned.

The elder shook his head and mused into his cup. "You seem familiar to me… that is all. I was merely racking my brain, trying to figure out whom."

A small bit of hope began to rise in Raven's heart. If the old man could recognize him, then perhaps he could tell him who he was. "Did you figure it out?"

Bugenhagen shook his head sadly. "No, I am afraid not. He is long dead, or assumed so anyways. Can you tell me how you lost your memory?"

Raven frowned and stared into his cup. "I don't know. Gra…" He choked for a moment as he thought about them and had to clamp down for a moment to rein in his emotions. "Granny and Gramps found me on the shore of Gongaga. They were very kind to have taken me in as their own."

"They seem like good people. Were they the ones who told you about me?" the old sage asked, peering at him intently.

"They're dead," Raven responded flatly. For a moment he stared into his cup as Bugenhagen gave him a stricken look. Realizing that he may have been partially rude, he elaborated. "Gongaga was attacked by a band of demons and monsters, and they were killed. So I left to discover my identity."

"I am sorry," the elder softly replied. "I did not know that Gongaga had been attacked. I had thought that we were in a time of peace. Gaia certainly deserves it after that confrontation with Sephiroth. All of them do, especially Captain Highwind."

Again, another name that sounded familiar to Raven. He looked away from Bugenhagen and stared into empty space as he contemplated things. He had a feeling that the elder knew something but wasn't telling him. It was more the sage was trying to lead him into remembering or saying something.

"You know," the elder began quietly. "I just might know someone who will recognize you."

Raven's heart skipped a beat despite the enormous yawn that erupted from his mouth. He embarrassedly covered his face with a hand. "Really?"

The old sage chuckled. "Yes. You look tired; why not rest in one of the guest rooms." He set his cup down on the table and stood up.

"You wouldn't mind?" the grey-eyed man questioned. "I did walk here all the way from Gongaga…"

The elder shook his head, laughing slightly. "Of course not. Ho, ho, ho. I will call him and have him come by to meet you, and in the mean time, you just rest."

Raven allowed a small smile as he set down his tea cup and stood up from the couch. Bugenhagen led him towards a set of stairs. As they climbed, the dark-haired man couldn't help but admire the weapons that decorated the hall of the stairs. There were all kinds, and even a gun that looked pretty powerful. He fingered the Hell Fire at his side, mind instantly returning to that quirk that was a hint into his identity.

The old sage was mostly silent as they walked. It seemed both men had much on their minds. The elder led him to a small room at the top of the stairs that housed a dresser and a bed but not much else.

"You can stay here," said Bugenhagen, gesturing Raven just inside. The dark-haired man nodded in understanding and walked in, sitting down on the bed contemplatively.

"I appreciate your help," he said softly, running a scarred left hand over the fabric before realizing what he was doing. He quickly shoved the hand back under his cloaks. However, the elder had caught it, though he said nothing.

"I'm in the habit of helping strangers, can't say why," Bugenhagen joked as he shook his head. "Get some rest. I will call him."

He left the doorway, pulling the door behind him, though not shut all the way. He wasn't sure what Raven would want. With contemplative steps, Bugenhagen headed back downstairs to where he had left the PHS that his grandson had given him not long ago.

He was sure that that man was Vincent. The hair and that face, though his eyes were different, and the elder knew he no longer had a claw, Bugenhagen was positive. It all fit. And Cid would be the first to know.

The voice in his head chuckled. (Doing things your own way from now on?)

"Is there any better way?" answered Bugenhagen aloud.

The elder wasn't even going to call Reeve this time. He was going to decide what was right and let the pilot choose for himself. Unable to contain a smile of glee, Bugenhagen found his phone and found the pilot's number that his grandson had inputted in there for him long ago.

Won't they be surprised?

----

Review please! And they'll keep coming...


	10. Stolen Kiss

Thanks to all my reviewers! I am so grateful foryour comments!

Warning: Some hetero action here. You are warned!

**Chapter 10: Stolen Kiss **

"Gawd!" Yuffie exclaimed as she gawked at the destruction that she could see. "What the hell happened here?"

Nanaki stood beside her, golden eyes also taking in the annihilation. More than two-thirds of the town looked as if it had been burnt to the ground. On the very edge to the far right, where once there were three graves surrounded by foliage, a large burial site was beginning to form. The people were wandering with numb looks on their faces as they struggled to form shelters and rebuild their tiny town. Only a day or two had passed since the attack, but the Gongagans were survivors, had always been. They were skilled in picking up the pieces and starting over. Thanks to damn ShinRa.

"Something attacked, but what I can't say," Nanaki commented, shaking his head in dismay. It was supposed to be a time of peace…

"Well, I coulda guessed that!" The dark-haired ninja snorted as her eyes flashed. "Come on, let's go talk to some people." With that said, she started for the town and a group of ladies, who appeared to be sifting through the remains of an important building.

Apparently, Yuffie was still mad at Nanaki. He could understand her anger and now wished fiercely that he hadn't acted the way he had. If he had been told the same, he would be just as furious as she was now. And coming from someone who claimed to understand, it was ten times the betrayal.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, the demi-human trailed along after her. The ninja headed directly for the ladies, purpose evident in every step.

"Hello, ladies. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened here?" Yuffie asked as she stood on the edge of the wreckage. She thought that she sounded very professional.

The three ladies, who were sifting through the wreckage, turned their heads to look at the two approaching young people. They were surprised to find a young looking Wutaian girl and a red-haired man with a tail talking to them.

"We were attacked," one of them answered. She was rather tall and wisp thin and was holding a few found artifacts in her hand.

"It was a horde of demons," another continued. She had startling bright red hair that rivaled Nanaki's and perpetually pale skin. "They attacked without warning, burning and killing anything they could lay their hands on."

Nanaki frowned. "Why?"

The three ladies exchanged glances. "We don't know. Like Pera said, it came out of nowhere," the third answered.

"Do you know a Mrs. Alexander?" questioned Yuffie. "She is a friend of ours' mom and we wanted to make sure she was okay."

The thin woman nodded, pointing vaguely towards the inner part of what was left of Gongaga. "I think I remember seeing her. If I am not mistaken, she was the one that gave Zack the elixir."

"Knowing Gina, she will be at the hospital," added in Pera. "It's the big tent near the center of town."

"Thank you for your help." Yuffie smiled. She bowed lightly to them before taking off for the inner part of Gongaga without waiting for Nanaki. Her stride was quick and sure.

The demi-human flashed the three females his most charming smile before hurrying to catch up to the practically running ninja.

"Yuffie! Please, wait up!" However, the ninja was ignoring him, steadfastly moving forward. Nanaki sighed heavily and put on a burst of speed, finally catching up enough to grab an arm and pull her to a stop. "Geez, Yuff."

"Let me go, Nanaki," she said coldly, glaring at him.

"No," he responded, shaking his head. "Not until you talk to me."

"I don't have anything to say," she said, looking away and staring at the broken buildings around her. She wondered who would attack Gongaga. It was a peaceful town but relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things. The ninja allowed her mind to wander as she attempted to ignore Nanaki looking at her plaintively.

"Then why are you still mad at me?" Nanaki questioned. The demi-human sighed and released her arm. She took it back and crossed them over her chest, glaring at him.

Yuffie snorted. "If you have to ask then, I'm not going to bother explaining."

Nanaki shook his head and closed his eyes as if thinking. "Look. I am sorry… okay? You are my best friend, and I did not mean to hurt you. Won't you at least talk to me?"

"Not right now," the ninja gritted out. She turned on her heels and headed towards the inner part of Gongaga. "Let's just see if we can find Rude's mom."

Shaking his shoulders in defeat, Nanaki closed his mouth and trudged after the dark-haired girl. He didn't know what possessed him to act the way he had. Perhaps some misguided protective instinct or something to that effect? He still remember the way she had looked the day Vincent had almost turned into Chaos after visiting the cave beneath the waterfall. Despite her strength, which was admirable, she was still very young… both of them were. Was it wrong for him to want to keep her from all sadness and pain?

It was then that the demi-human began to wonder when it was he started seeing his best friend in more than friendly terms. As it were, he wouldn't mind stealing another kiss like he had before the battle with Sephiroth. Sure, he found her courage admirable and her steadfast unfailing determination was encouraging. Her stone grey eyes proved her strength, and she always had a shining smile to go with her fast wit and even faster hands… by Kami! He fancied his best friend!

However, he had no more time to ponder on his sudden realization as the two had found their way to the hospital. The door was open, probably for fresh air, so they invited themselves inside. For it to be just a tent in the middle of the town, it was surprisingly well lit, albeit a bit stuffy. The bitter smell of antiseptic burned the demi-human's nostrils, and he couldn't help wrinkle his nose.

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but then they were able to take in the sight of the result of the attack yesterday. There were at least ten beds in the tiny tent, well, if beds were what they could be called. More like mats on the ground, and each of them were occupied. A few women and men milled about from mat to mat, trying to comfort the wounded. Most were severely burned, but others looked as if they had been chewed on; it was not a pleasant sight.

Nanaki heard Yuffie take a quick indrawn breath from beside him and looked over at her in concern. She had paled a few shades but was trying to get back in control. Her grey eyes flared in surprise as she struggled to maintain her breathing. He was about to put out a hand to comfort her but then thought better of it. He didn't want her to think that he was babying her again.

"Can I help you?" an older darker-skinned woman questioned when she turned and noticed the two young people that entered the tent.

Nanaki gave her his sincerest smile. "We are looking for Mrs. Alexander. We were told she was in here?"

The lady laughed then, a great genial laugh that made the two instantly at ease. Despite the disapproving glare she received from the head doctor, she continued to chuckle as she moved towards Nanaki and Yuffie and motioned them outside. "That is I, my dears." She placed a hand on each back as she steered them towards the door so that they wouldn't disturb those that needed their rest.

"Oh, thank goodness," Yuffie breathed, a sigh of relief escaping from her lips as she allowed herself to be pushed outside and into the fresh air. The sun shone on her face, warming her paled skin and cleansing the smell of sickness and antiseptic from her lungs. She absolutely hated hospitals and seeing many of those good innocent people horridly injured made her want to burst into tears.

"Rude has been very worried about you," the ninja continued.

Mrs. Alexander chuckled in response, finally deciding that they were far enough and allowing her younger visitors to turn around. "I can understand that. I broke my phone in the attack, while I was in the middle of calling for help. House tried to fall in on me, you know?"

"Oh!" Yuffie exclaimed looking her over closely. "You weren't hurt were you, Mrs. Alexander?"

"Please call me Gina," the dark-skinned woman suggested. "And no, I am perfectly fine. It was actually quite a miracle how I got free but I won't bore you with the tale. Others weren't so lucky.

"How bad was the damage?" Nanaki questioned, still taking in all he could see. He was under the impression that it might have been better for them to just over from the beginning somewhere else. Gongaga had already gone through the reactor explosion those years ago… perhaps the place was cursed?

Gina went quiet at the question, her cheerful disposition dropping by a few notches. That was one wound that wouldn't heal for a while. "We lost many, perhaps a third of the inhabitants and three-quarters of the town. The demons weren't selective. Any home they could reach, they burned. Any human, they either slaughtered or played games with until death overtook their toys. But it could have been much worse."

Yuffie frowned in confusion. "How?"

"They could have killed us all… but someone stood up to them. He went on a one-man defense and destroyed them all. I don't know, but somehow Zack saved us, and nearly paid for it with his life. Luckily for me, I had an elixir on hand." Gina appeared thoughtful on this as she relayed the information.

"Where have I heard that name before?" Nanaki queried, frowning as he placed a hand on his chin and stared at the ground. There was something to that name that struck a chord in his memory.

"What does it matter?" Yuffie responded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her PHS. She checked the batteries on it before handing it over to Rude's mother. "Call Rude; I am sure he is worried."

Gina accepted the phone gratefully, with a smile on her face, before turning her back for some privacy.

The ninja grabbed Nanaki's arm and hauled him away so that she could conduct her call in peace. Once she felt they were a sufficient distance away, she released his arm and plopped down on a bench as if exhausted.

The demi-human however chose to stand, stretching out some of his tired joints and enjoying the feel of the sun on his face. Now would be as good as time as any to talk to his friend, or so he thought.

"Listen, Yuffie, I want to-"

She sighed, interrupting what it was he was about to say. "Not right now." The dark-haired younger woman stood up from the chair and started to walk away.

"I don't know what you want me to do, Yuffie! We're supposed to be best friends! How am I to talk to you if you keep walking away?" the demi-human demanded fiercely.

The ninja sighed and attempted to ignore him but couldn't resist the pleading expression in those golden eyes. Plastering a look of anger on her face, she turned halfway to glare at him, while raising an eyebrow.

"Best friend, huh?" she stated. "But when it gets down to it, you still treat me like the child that everyone thinks I am." Her grey eyes flashed angrily as she gritted her teeth and waited for a response.

"I never meant for it like that." He ran a hand through his hair distractedly as he searched for the right words. "I suppose it was some wrong attempt at protecting you… I don't know. Yet, I didn't mean for it to go like this."

"Protecting?" Yuffie demanded. "Since when have I needed protection? I don't know when you suddenly decided that it's up to you to shelter me, but I certainly don't need it." She started sputtering then, just continuously spouting an argument though her point had long been met. "I am not a child, Nanaki, and I haven't been for a long time. The next time you think that… mmph!"

Mmph, indeed. For in the midst of her continuous arguing, Nanaki had grabbed her suddenly and pulled her into his arms. Without hesitating, he placed his lips over hers, sealing off any further protest.

The ninja melted into the touch, eyes fluttering closed as she gently returned the kiss. His scent flooded every one of her senses as he swiped a tongue across the surface of her lips, seeking permission to gain entrance. She relaxed into the touch and parted her lips slightly. Almost immediately the demi-human was slipping inside, swiping his tongue along her inner cavern and doing a small duel with her own moist appendage.

It was something the ninja had only experienced once before, when Nanaki had kissed her that one time before the battle with Sephiroth. Not that she had ever forgotten that spontaneous kiss; it was an event that still followed her and puzzled her as well.

Slowly, almost shyly, Yuffie began to push her tongue back against the demi-human's. Playfully, she sought to taste him in the same way that he had tasted her. His arm tightened around her body reflexively as he sought to pull the ninja closer.

However, the sound of whirring blades and a loud engine disturbed them. Two pairs of eyes turned towards the heavens to see that the Highwind was preparing to land just outside of Gongaga.

It was then that Nanaki realized what he had done. He snatched his arms back quickly and put them behind his back, cheeks coloring in embarrassment as he stared at the ground. Yuffie stood mouth slightly agape as she slowly processed what had just happened. Within seconds, both had reddened faces and were watching the very fascinating soil.

"We should go meet Cid," the demi-human commented quietly without looking up.

Yuffie nodded her head, and then realized that Nanaki wasn't even looking at her. Clearing her throat, she answered. "I have to get my phone first."

Without another word, though minds were turmoil, the two headed back towards the hospital where they had left Rude's mother and the ninja's phone. Yuffie couldn't help her body from tingling in the after effects of that kiss. It made her weak in the knees. Her best friend has kissed her again. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that except perhaps to have him do a repeat performance… just to be sure.

She did like him. Nanaki was strong and smart, fiercely protective if need be, and had always been nice to her… well, excluding present circumstances. He was also handsome, especially in his demi-human form. Yuffie's cheeks burned with embarrassment for thinking of her friend in such a way.

Besides, it was not as if she could encourage him. She had known since she was old enough to understand whom she was to marry. There was a fine Wutaian lord waiting for her to 'come to her senses' back home. Talk about complex issues…

No, that was a situation she wasn't sure she could handle just yet. Yet, watching the ripple of muscle beneath her best friend's golden-brown skin, she was damn determined to try.

----

"Get some rest, Mrs. Alexander," Dr. Tsuki ordered gently as he patted her on the shoulder. He was a kindly elderly gentleman with crystal blue eyes and thinning white hair. He was a respected doctor in their small community, though he admitted he was baffled when it came to what he couldn't understand in Shera's test results.

Shera gave him a small smile and closed her eyes exhaustively. It had been a trying few days what with the frightening phone call and Reno's subsequent disappearance. The brunette had been worrying herself crazy. The doctor quietly put away his medical instruments and joined Rude, where the dark-skinned man was leaning on the door frame.

"I'll be downstairs," Dr. Tsuki explained softly. He passed by the former Turk and headed for the den where he would meet him in a few moments. Rude nodded politely as the doctor passed.

He moved from the door to sit by his wife on the bed. Her eyes opened when she felt the slight disturbance. She gave him one of her smiles. Feeling his love for her swell in his heart, Rude reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"I love you," he said softly.

She nuzzled into his touch, glad for the comfort before she gave a small laugh.

"I love you too, Rude," she began, her brown eyes sparkling. "But I'm only pregnant, not dying."

The former Turk chuckled, his face would have been red were it not for his dark complexion. "So feisty," he commented. Shaking his head at his wife's stubbornness, he slowly got up from his seat.

"Obey your doctor, Shera; get some rest," he teased lightly, leaning down to share a kiss. She accepted it happily, pressing her soft lips to his.

He pulled back after a moment and watched with satisfaction as she closed her eyes and appeared to obey. Chuckling quietly to himself, he headed for the door.

"You sure know how to shut a girl up," Shera commented before he could completely exit.

"I'm good at everything I do," Rude joked as he quietly closed the door behind him and began to head down the stairs.

Shera's sense of humor and spicy attitude were one of the characteristics that attracted him to her in the first place. That was part of the reason he kept accepting the Rocket Town missions, Cid and his overbearing father complex be damned.

Rude descended the stairs and entered the den where the doctor was setting up some of his medial equipment. The dark-skinned man paused in the doorway, frowning in confusion as he observed the older man's actions.

"Dr. Tsuki?"

The elder man looked up and smiled, gesturing that the former Turk come sit in a chair. Rude complied though he was a bit confused as to what the good doctor was doing.

"I have a theory," explained the doctor in a low tone as he began to prepare Rude. He pushed up the dark-skinned man's sleeve and began to swab down an area with antiseptic. "However, I need some of your blood and DNA to check."

"Theory?"

"Yes, Hojo's research was vastly incomplete. The long term effects of mako are still uncertain and unknown. It is feasible that the mako you've been exposed to has combined with your DNA. But I need to check to be sure."

Rude frowned in vague understanding, not even wincing as the tight band was wrapped around his forearm and the needle pierced his flesh, beginning to draw blood. "Do you think it might have something to do with the abnormal readings for the baby?"

Dr. Tsuki shook his head in ambiguity. "I can't be sure. But you have a friend in Midgar, yes? Whose wife is also pregnant?"

Rude nodded. "But Cloud's been subjected to other experiments. Our experiences are not the same."

The doctor swabbed the wound before applying a small bandage and storing the drawn blood. He let Rude roll his sleeve back down as he sat down in a chair and mused aloud. "But theoretically, she is also having problems, yes?"

"As Dr. Morrow, suspects, yes," the former Turk confirmed. He paused as if considering a fact. "But he is just as baffled as you by the abnormal test results."

"Hmm, I am going to contact the doctor and get together with him. If my theory is correct, then we have no need to worry at all."

Rude frowned. "Why not?"

"Because," exclaimed Dr. Tsuki. "Your child will be extraordinary: high intelligence, greater than average strength, agility and great magic affinity. The mako might have had superfluous effects rather than adverse effects."

The former Turk appeared to digest this information slowly before allowing a grin to appear on his face. "I hope your theory proves positive then. I would hate for Shera to have to worry continuously." As always, most of his concern was for his wife before anyone else.

"As do I," agreed the doctor, chewing his lip in deep thought. "Until then, make sure she rests and try to keep her stress level down." He stood up and gathered all of his equipment together, replacing it in his medical bag carefully.

Rude bobbed his head in understanding as he escorted the doctor to the door. Tsuki was a busy man with many other patients.

"I will try but you know how stubborn she can be. I came home and found her out in the work shed."

Dr. Tsuki laughed, his pale cheeks rosy with the effort, as he smiled. "Aye. I'll check back in a week or so or call with the results. Whichever comes first."

"Thanks. It is appreciated." Rude opened the door for the doctor and closed it behind him once the elderly man stepped out. He stood still for a moment, staring at the closed door as his shocked mind continued to absorb the man's words.

It was two outcomes that he was now faced with. Either his child was going to have serious medical problems or be a prodigy, not that he wouldn't love him or her however things turned out. It was a stress that he was going to have to handle either way.

Rude sighed and leaned against the door, closing his eyes in exhaustion. The past twenty-four hours had been especially draining on him. Damn ShinRa and their long term effects…

His phone rang. The sound was loud and startling in the momentary silence. For a moment, Rude considered not answering it, fearing more bad news. Good sense got the better of him, and he reached into his pocket to pull it out. He didn't immediately recognize the number but pressed the receive button anyways.

"Rude, here."

"Oh thank goodness," came a very familiar voice. "I am sorry to have worried you darling, but I called to let you know that I am alright."

Rude exhaled softly, body sagging against the door in utmost relief. It was his mother on the phone; he would know that voice anywhere. Worry for the fate of his family began to slowly unkink itself from his shoulders.

"Mom…. I was so worried about you."

The phone was crackling, but he could still hear her. She sounded tired, her voice raw but she was alive. That was all that mattered to Rude. "I know. Something happened here, I am not sure what. We were attacked by a horde of flying demons. I thought we were all going to die."

Rolling his shoulders and neck, Rude finally managed to push himself up off the door and wander into the den where he sat down on the couch and continued to talk to his mother. It pained him to ask, but he wanted to know. "How did… how did you survive?"

She laughed then. "I'd love to say it was brilliant survival technique taught by you, but I'd be lying." Her voice went sober then, almost whisper-like. "It was Zack… well, you wouldn't know him by that name because it isn't even his real name, but that's beyond the point. Anyways, Zack went military and magic on them all and killed them." It was then that sadness entered her tone and Rude could just imagine her shaking her head and clucking her tongue. "Poor thing, he saved us but wasn't in time to save his caretakers."

"Is he still there? I'd like to thank him."

"No. A few hours after the attack, he burned down the house and left without a word. I did the best I could by him to pour an elixir down his throat, but that was the most help he would accept. I had the feeling he wished I hadn't." She went silent for a moment as she contemplated her own words. "Imagine that… a hero in our eyes but still feeling as if he wasn't worth being saved."

It was then that something clicked in Rude's brain. Many people thought that he wasn't as smart as others because he didn't speak much and was more brawn than anything else. And it was that wrong thinking that got them killed in the end. However, the former Turk was actually very smart and excellent at deducing things.

"You said he didn't have any memory?" questioned the dark-skinned man as he tried to piece things together in his head. "What did he look like?"

As he waited for his mother to respond, he rolled his sudden idea in his head. Who else did he know that had a major guilt complex but Vincent Valentine? That man could turn anything around into an episode of self-hatred and loathing. And if something had happened to him in the crater, memory loss was probably eminent. Besides, he was a military man as well. It made perfect sense to the former Turk, though he couldn't fathom why no one had recognized him yet.

"Oh, listen sweetie, I'd love to discuss my hero more, but this lovely young lady who graciously allowed me use of her phone needs it back. I will talk to you later, okay? I love you."

Before he could protest the phone was taken from his mother's grasp and another familiar voice filled the void.

"Hey, Rude? How's Shera?" She spoke so fast he had no time to respond to any of her questions. "Anyways, don't worry about things down here. Me and 'Aki got it handled, kay? You just take care of that pregnant woman. Go rub her feet or something. Bye!"

The phone went dead before Rude could even say anything further. But that was just the little ninja. Shaking his head in silent laughter, Rude rose from the couch and ascended the stairs. Shera would be glad to know that his mother was alright. Hell, he was more than thrilled.

But now a new question nagged at him.

Who was Zack?

----

Hmm, more mysteries.

Comments anyone?


	11. A Familiar Face

Thanks to all my reviewers! Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls! Reading your comments makes me happy and write even faster. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter 11: A Familiar Face**

Reeve Tuesti was beginning to realize just how much he hated his job. He was sitting behind his desk in his office in the Neo-ShinRa building, diligently going through his paperwork. Hmph. It seemed that was all he was good for. His lover was missing, a town had been attacked, and here he was reading some non-important bullshit about the average fuel usage for ShinRa vehicles.

He laughed darkly at that as he signed his name to yet another report. Reno could be dying for all he knew, but Reeve was expected to stay behind like the good little President and get his work done.

But, oh how he hated the polished oak desk, far too expensive for him to waste money on and the way the chair had completely flattened to his shape, so that it was no longer comfortable. He despised being tied down and caged to paperwork like some kind of prisoner. There was much he could be doing, including looking for his lost lover and proving to the red-haired Turk just how much he loved him.

It was painful to go home to an empty apartment. It was always cold and dark… the executive had to turn on the lights and play a little radio just to fall asleep the night before. He missed Reno's characteristic inability to remain in any position for long. There was a reason the two needed such a large bed. The Turk tended to thrash about and was very active during the night. Truthfully, some nights BOTH of them were very active. Not that naughty thoughts of any kind were helpful to Reeve in his current situation.

"Reeve?" Archer's voice cut through his internal monologue. He had nearly forgotten that his former assistant was there. He had been absorbing himself so much in his paperwork to concentrate on everything but how much he ached on the inside. Reno gone he could handle… but Reno missing with no clue as to his health or whereabouts… it left him feeling hollow and cold.

"Hm?" the dark-haired man responded as the pen scratched quietly over the paper. The last thing he wanted to hear was how everything was going to be alright or to be told not to worry. Yet, he could almost predict to the letter what Archer was going to say. Just reiterating the same pointless encouragement as he had when they first learned of the frantic distress signal from Reno's helicopter.

"He's going to be fine," the green-eyed man attempted in consolation. He had been standing at the windows and staring out it as they waited for some kind of communication. There wasn't much for him to do as he was used to being on the Highwind and working with either the technicians or engineers. Though he was good at being Reeve's assistant way back when, Kyle actually despised paperwork and would much rather be tearing something apart and attempting to put it back together again. It was that original interest that had first tied him to the young pilot Highwind. Cid was in Gongaga, and Tseng and Elena were on their way. There wasn't much left to do but wait.

Reeve snorted in response. "I wouldn't know. I am here rather than out there. No wonder he is mad at me."

Archer shook his head and moved to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. He plopped down into the well-worn seat and tried to find a comfortable position. It wasn't easy on the rather flat cushion. The dark-haired executive was bent over his desk with amber-eyes continuously running after one document or another, occasionally applying the pen he was tapping against the top to a line on the paper.

"You sound like a child," Archer teased, green eyes taking in the slouched appearance of his friend. His shoulders were taut with worry.

Reeve put down the pen and glared at his friend from across the desk. "I don't want to be stuck in here," the executive said as he gestured vaguely around the office. "I want to be out looking for him, so that he knows I care." His eyes fell as he sighed heavily. He just wanted to put his head down, go to sleep, and wake up tomorrow with all the problems gone. "I have a feeling that's what started everything in the first place."

The other man opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a solid knock on the outer doors to the office. Three hard raps resounded on the thick wooden doors.

"Enter," Reeve called out loudly, with a shrug of his shoulders. He expected it to be Jennifer, bringing him in more paperwork. The drudgery of his days…

His secretary stuck her head in, checking to make sure he wasn't overtly busy before pushing the door open with her hips and coming inside. Sure enough, she had a stack of papers in her hand and surprisingly, a package of some sort.

"Carey, down in R&D, has been going through Dr. Hojo's research," explained Jennifer as she handed over the papers. "These are only some of the reports. They are quite sickening," she commented with a frown.

Archer shook his head. "Hojo was a monster; that's all that need be said."

"Thanks. What about the package?" Reeve questioned as he looked at the papers. He sighed inwardly at the sheer volume of lines that would require his signature and decision.

She shrugged as she handed him the slim, brown-wrapped package that was addressed to President Reeve. "It came this afternoon in the late drop off. I don't think it is anything dangerous."

He took the wrapped parcel, surprised at how light it was. "Thank you, Jennifer. You can go home early today."

The pretty woman flashed him a smile of thanks and literally danced from the office, humming a small tune to herself. It was, after all, a Friday afternoon.

Archer chuckled as he watched her leave. She caught his look and flashed him a wink and sway of her hips before she dodged out the door. "You just made her night."

"Hm," Reeve agreed. His mind was already on the package in his hand. There wasn't much to the square parcel other than his name on the front. There was no return address. The wrapping itself was plain brown and taped. The dark-haired man frowned as he turned it over and over in his hands.

"You'll never know unless you open it," Archer joked as he watched his friend analyze the packet.

Reeve shot him a look as he started to slowly rip off the tape and open up the package. The wrapping came apart easily in his hands until a slim video tape slid into his hand. It too was unlabeled except for a small note that read, "Watch me."

Shrugging, Reeve handed the video tape over to Archer.

Kyle frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Might as well," he said, noting the sign on the front of the case.

Reeve pressed a button on the remote control in the drawer on his desk. Along the wall behind him, a small panel slid open revealing a decently sized television and video system. Archer shook his head at the ShinRa technology and put in the tape. Reeve clicked the television on and the two men sat back to watch.

The screen crackled and buzzed black for a moment before a picture coalesced, though it was grainy and out of focus. Gradually however, the picture came into focus and what was revealed caused Reeve to gasp and grit his teeth in anger.

The camera was pointed at a bruised Reno, tied hand and foot to a chair. He appeared unconscious, his head lolling on his chest. There was a distinct cut in the red-haired man's forehead that was rather sloppily bandaged and small purplish bruises were evident in the light skin. His usual goggles were gone and his hair was flopping over limply in his sweat-slicked face. The video was him for a moment until it panned over to the right revealing another familiar face.

"Hello, Reeve, pleasure to see you again," came a distinctly female voice as a recognized brunette came into view. She was wearing a rather revealing little outfit consisting of a long skirt with distasteful slits and a thin, form fitting top that didn't hide much. If she thought she looked desirable, she was sorely mistaken.

"Tifa," the president growled, pulling his fingers into a fist. He still remembered her attack of him during the escape from Junon. She deserved a beating that she hadn't gotten yet. However, the most surprising fact was everybody had assumed both she and Rufus were dead.

"I'm sure you are wondering what the hell is going on? Aren't you, sweetie?" the dark-haired girl continued as she gestured vaguely towards where Reno was trussed up and unconscious.

"You killed my lover," Tifa growled angrily, leaning forward. "And if I don't get what I want, I will return the favor."

"Bitch!" Reeve cursed angrily, barely able to contain himself from leaping to his feet. "I swear if it's the last…"

"Reeve," Archer said quietly. "Listen to what she has to say first." He put a hand on his friends arm to help calm him.

Biting his lip, the amber-eyed executive returned his attention to the screen. He barely noticed when the door to his office opened behind him. Archer turned to look and saw that Tseng and Elena were entering quietly, an odd look on their face. He waved them over.

"ShinRa should be mine," Tifa continued unabated, smirking as if she knew what kind of reaction she would be getting. "It belonged to Rufus, not you punks. He would hate to see what is being done with his money and his father's money." She grinned and leaned forward in her chair even as she crossed her legs.

"I want it all. Hand over all of ShinRa and what remains of the money and we might call it even." She licked her lips suggestively and sat back in her chair, as if waiting for a reaction.

"I can't believe that heinous bitch!" Archer cursed angrily. "What does she think we're going to do, roll over and beg?"

"I have to do it," murmured Reeve slumping. "I can't allow her to hurt him."

"I never liked her," Elena growled, stepping up beside her boss and fellow friend. She fingered the gun at her side as if contemplating shooting the screen.

"She will not have ShinRa," Tseng continued. "We shall rescue Reno before she gets a chance to even touch him."

"You know," Tifa mused aloud, continuing in her video as if she knew what was going on. "You would save a lot on construction if you stopped. Then I wouldn't have to keep sabotaging it all." She snickered into her palm.

"Anyways, as much as I enjoy talking to you, I really must be going. Places to blow up, things to destroy, terrorist takeovers… that sort of thing. I will contact you later about the details. Ta ta!" She wiggled her fingers at him. "Oh! And tell Cloud I said hello, would you? I'm sure he's dying to know."

With those parting words, the screen went black. A few moments later the television turned to a snowy screen. The video was obviously over.

"Is there anyway to figure out where they are hiding?" Reeve demanded, turning to face his three friends and employees.

Elena turned thoughtful. "Possibly. If I analyzed the video for background noises and scenes, I might be able to pick out something that would give us a hint."

"Do it," the president ordered. "This time I am not going to stay behind."

"But…" Archer started to protest.

The dark-haired executive put up a hand to stop him before he could continue. "No, I don't care about ShinRa right now. I would gladly hand over this company if that's what it took to get him back. Not that I'm planning to, but I will if necessary."

Tseng nodded. "Should we call Cloud, let him know that Tifa is unfortunately alive and well?"

"Yes," Reeve agreed. "And call Cid as well; he needs to know what to look out for, though I doubt she is hiding anywhere near Gongaga."

Archer shifted in his stance as he thought. "Do you think she is responsible for what happened there?"

"I can't say for sure," Reeve responded. "Not until I know all the facts. For now, let's just concentrate on getting Reno back, safe and alive."

-----

Cid put down his shovel, thrusting the semi-sharp spade into the ground. He stretched mildly, pushing his arms to the heavens and managing to pop his sore back. For the past two days or so, he, Nanaki, and Yuffie had decided to hang around in Gongaga to help the residents bury the dead and get back on their feet.

Cid had spent most of his time doing physical labor. He found it easy to lose himself in the pain of an overworked body and collapsing into sleep made it easy not to dream. It was a coping mechanism for the moment, which eased the pain in his heart.

Nanaki had taken to helping the ladies in the makeshift hospital. His knowledge gifted to him by Bugenhagen was useful. The demi-human had a surprisingly gentle touch and was often found joking with the patients in an effort to relieve their pain.

Yuffie was working with clean up, sifting through the debris of broken objects for helpful items and also carrying messages across the town as rebuilding was in the midst of being attempted.

The pilot wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, brushing off the sweat that had collected there in the midday sun. It was backbreaking work to dig graves, and not exactly a comforting task either.

Earlier that morning Archer had called to tell him of the ransom on Reno. It had surprised him, but it wasn't as if Cid could really contribute anything of use. Reeve had Tseng, Elena, and Kyle. He didn't need the help of a depressed old pilot.

Groaning as his stretch popped some of the bones in his back, Cid decided it was time he took a break. He swiped his water bottle off the ground and happily squirted some of it into his mouth. Most of the wells in Gongaga had been tainted. So the survivors had gathered a bunch of tubs and cleaned them. Cid cast a water spell and filled the clean tubs thereby providing reasonably fresh water.

The blond headed for one of the trees on the outskirts of the clearing that would house the graveyard. He plopped down beneath the thick, low-hanging and fragrant branches of one of the taller trees. He leaned up against the rough bark of the trunk to relax as he chugged some more of the water. It was significantly cooler in the shade of the giant tree. Cid allowed his eyes to wander, taking in the still shattered look of Gongaga.

Sky blue eyes absorbed the same destruction his friends had encountered earlier. Shells of burnt and blasted buildings, tattered lives and dreams, just as before. If Cid hadn't known that ShinRa was in good hands, he would have been hard pressed to not blame it on the mega-corporation. Indeed, it looked like another mako reactor had blown up. As if Gongaga, hadn't had enough problems already.

The residents of this hamlet however, were remarkably resilient. Two days after the attack and most of the survivors had recognized the importance of ensuring their own continued existence before they could even grieve. Despite the many graves that were beginning to dot the small clearing enclosed by trees, Gongaga would learn and survive once more.

However, there was one fact that the pilot had not failed to notice. Whilst all the other charred buildings were slowly being deconstructed and searched for useful items, one particular blackened home lay untouched. Occasionally, he saw residents pass by and lay flowers on what used to be the doorstep, but other than that, the house had been completely ignored. They didn't mill near the wreckage, nor poke about in it for something helpful. It was as if someone very important and sacred had died in that particular building.

Cid frowned in inner thought as he contemplated the importance of the building. As far as he knew, the Gongagans weren't much for religion and their mayor had survived. So who had lived in the house?

"Old man!" Yuffie's cheerful voice cut through his thoughts as the branches above him rustled noisily. Looking up, Cid wasn't surprised to find mischievous grey eyes twinkling down at him.

"Whaddya want, brat?" demanded Cid gruffly. "Get down from there."

"Whatcha looking at?" the ninja questioned as she nimbly dropped down from the green leaves and landed next to the relaxed pilot.

Cid rolled his shoulders lazily as he idly gestured towards the home he had been musing on.

"Why is that one ignored except for the flowers? No one has begun to clean it."

Yuffie sighed as she traced his line of sight. "Rumor has it that home was the only one to survive the attack. But Zack burned it before he left."

"Who's Zack?" Cid asked with a frown. Why did that name sound so familiar?

Yuffie exclaimed, "Gah! Haven't you been listening to the people around here?"

Cid waved a hand of dismissal. "I prefer not to listen to idle rumors. Now tell me who that is, while I try to place the name."

"Nanaki seems to think he's heard the name, too," Yuffie mused aloud. "Anyways, Zack seems to be the one that drove away the demons. He defeated them all and nearly died in the process. According to Laisa, he was really hot!"

"I think I remember now," came Nanaki's voice, disturbing their conversation. The two looked up to find their red-haired friend grinning down on him. He plopped down on the other side Yuffie and handed each of them some sandwiches that the ladies of Gongaga had made for them.

"Wasn't he Cloud's friend? The one who originally had that giant sword?" Nanaki questioned aloud, around a mouthful of sandwich of his own.

"I thought he died," commented Yuffie, wrinkling her nose when she realized that her sandwich had mustard on it. She hated mustard…

"I remember now," Cid mused aloud. "He was born here in this town. Wasn't he dark-haired and blue-eyed?"

Nanaki frowned at the description. "Yes, Cloud's friend was. However, this Zack, from what I hear, has grey eyes and his hair is long, not spiked."

Before they could say anything further, the PHS in Cid's pocket rang very loudly. The pilot appeared to think about ignoring it for a moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled the phone out.

"Highwind," Cid answered crisply and shortly.

"Captain…" The pilot winced at the title. "You sound far less angry than when we last spoke." It was Nanaki's grandfather, Bugenhagen.

"Gongaga was attacked," the blond replied. "My anger took to the back burner."

Bugenhagen clucked sympathetically. "So I've heard. However, I think you should come to Cosmo Canyon."

Cid glared at Nanaki openly as he listened to the older man on the phone. "More secrets?" he questioned, growling angrily.

For a moment, there was silence on the phone as the pilot waited for Bugenhagen to reply.

"I think I have found Vincent," the older man uttered quietly. "I mean, I cannot be sure, but…"

Bugenhagen's voice faded from his mind as Cid sucked in a surprised breath. His heart began to pound with excitement as he stared wide-eyed, not really seeing. Vincent… they had… found him?

"Cid!" Bugenhagen's shout brought him back to the phone that had gone slack in his hand.

"Where is he?" questioned the pilot, slowly regaining his senses.

Nanaki and Yuffie exchanged glances at this, surprise etched into their features. They didn't know what was going on but judging by the pilot's tone, it was a good thing.

"He is here with me, but, Captain Highwind, you have to understand. He does not look the same… and he has completely lost his memory. He does not even know who he is..." Bugenhagen trailed off, unsure if he should say anything else.

Cid felt his heart stop once more as he absorbed the older man's words. Vincent didn't know who he was? Which meant he probably had no clue who the pilot was? He fought back a choking sob and tried to think more positively. If it truly was him, then at least the gunman was alive. Memory could always return later.

"I'm coming there right away. Expect me, Nanaki, and Yuffie in an hour or so. Don't let him leave!" ordered Cid.

Bugenhagen chuckled lightly. "Of course, I won't. Hopefully, he will stay asleep until you arrive."

"Whatever it takes," Cid responded gruffly. "See you as soon as I can." With that spoken, he hung up the phone without waiting for a response. For a moment, he just sat there in mild shock; the PHS is in his hand gripped tightly. He stared idly off into the distance, barely registering his two companions.

"Cid?" questioned Nanaki softly. He and the ninja exchanged yet another glance, unsure how to interpret the pilot's actions.

Slowly sky blue eyes turned towards grey and amber. A look of wonder had appeared. He slowly returned the phone to his pocket, patting it gently before he spoke.

"Vincent is… in Cosmo Canyon," he told them.

In unison, two pairs of eyes widened in surprise. Yuffie jumped to her feet, a large smile breaking out on her face as she cheered happily. Nanaki took a much quieter approach, a small grin appearing even as he contemplated the words.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Yuffie exclaimed loudly. "Why aren't you going?"

Nanaki frowned thoughtfully as he regarded the carefully guarded expression on the pilot's face. Cid wasn't even daring to hope too much, afraid to be let down again.

"What if it isn't him?" questioned the demi-human aloud. "What if it is another hoax like the time before?"

He was referring to a time that an honor-less cretin had pretended to have information on Vincent and was hoping to goad some money out of the pilot. This event had occurred a month or so after the disappearance and had gotten Cid extremely excited. Unfortunately, the man was just an extortionist and had no such information. He was currently rotting in a prison in Midgar courtesy of Reeve.

"It could be someone pretending," Nanaki added as an afterthought. "Everyone knows his description by now…"

The cheer died from Yuffie's lips as she looked between the two serious men. She sincerely hoped that the demi-human was wrong. Cid deserved his heart back far too much for it to be a hoax.

Cid shook his head. "Your grandfather believes it. Besides, the man isn't even claiming to be Vincent… he claims a memory loss."

Nanaki sighed and cast a small smile at his friend as he slowly hauled himself to his feet, stretching idly. "I hope that he is true then, for you if no one else." He held out a hand which the pilot grasped and was hauled to his feet.

The blond brushed off his jeans from the dirt and leaves that had stuck to him. He granted Nanaki and Yuffie a grin, something genuine that they hadn't seen in awhile.

"Come on; let's go," he said, jerking a thumb towards where the Highwind had remained stationary since they arrived in Gongaga.

The demi-human and ninja were more than happy to comply.

----

Yay! Cid is going to meet Vincent… or is he?

Looking forward to reading your comments! Til next chapter! Ciao!


	12. Black Angel

(Voice in Head)

'Inner Thought'

_Flashback_

Author's Notes: gasp at the top of the page no less! Ahem… yes… she did… Draco went there… heh….

**Thanks to my reviewers! Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls! Your support is much appreciated. **

**Chapter 12: Black Angel**

His black boots pounded against the ground, searching for purchase in the loose gravel and thick slick snow. His target was only a few strides in front of him, and he was gaining fast. He had been chasing the thief through the better part of twenty minutes; yet, he wasn't even winded.

SOLDIERs 1st Class were trained to run miles effortlessly. This was a piece of cake. His target, however, was not so lucky. Sweat was streaming down the thief's pale face, and he was panting heavily.

The area around him was thick with trees and scrub, and he had to move quickly to avoid them. The thief was more nimble, but he had already gotten swatted in the face several times by over hanging branches. Seraph was sure that the man's vision was already dimming.

The thief stumbled for just a moment, and Seraph saw his chance. He put on a short burst of speed and sprang at the fleeing back. He collided with the thief; the two crashed to the ground.

"Ow! Dammit! Fine, I give up!" The thief cursed as his face was pressed down into the cold of the snow.

"Shut up!" Seraph ordered, placing an elbow into the thief's back as he dug into the pocket of his leather jacket for a set of metal cuffs. The man beneath him grunted with the pain and flailed about, though it did no good.

"Are you proud of yourself?" the grey-eyed man demanded as he angrily restrained the thief and cuffed him across the head. "Takes a man to frighten women and the elderly, doesn't it?"

"Man," the thief began to whine.

Swap! Another hand graced the back of the dingy brown-haired thief. The younger man couldn't have been more than twenty. He winced with the pain as the strike cut off his words.

"I said, shut up, Eben!" (1) Seraph snapped, nostrils flaring in anger. He shoved himself to his feet and dragged his captive up with him.

"I don't know why your parents bother anymore. The only place you belong is prison."

Eben, however, wisely kept his mouth shut, glaring openly at the man who had deemed himself Icicle's newest method of law and order. And the stupid idiots in charge of the town had accepted him, despite his mysterious arrival. The thief didn't deny that Seraph was strong and did a good job. He just hated that the man was always able to catch him.

Seraph sighed and started retracing his steps back towards the town, yanking on the cuffs as he did so. Eben was forced to stumble along with him. The younger man was more trouble than he was worth.

His parents couldn't understand why their youngest son liked to get in trouble. Constantly picking fights and stealing, Eben was rapidly heading down the wrong path. However, they wouldn't allow Seraph to throw the punk in jail, convinced all he needed was a little more love and attention. Feh! What the brat needed was heavy handed discipline.

(Like the kind you are familiar with?) a voice questioned in his mind. It was one he was well used to and the closest thing to a best friend he had.

Rather than Eben think him mad, Seraph chose to respond within his own head. He mentally snorted. 'It worked, did it not? They had me trained.'

(Up until the point you went crazy and tried to destroy the world.)

'Point,' Seraph agreed. 'However, a little something else had her alien hands in it, as well.'

Behind him, he could hear Eben muttering to himself, complaining most likely. Choosing to ignore the spoiled younger man, Seraph continued his internal conversation.

As Gilgamesh rambled on about how much he despised ShinRa, Hojo, Jenova, and then most of mankind in general, Seraph turned his attentions to the area around him.

It would take at least twice as long to get to Icicle since they were walking instead of running like mad. He glanced up at the sky, noting it would be dark soon. The two men needed to hurry. Cold winds rushing down from Gaea's Cliff could freeze a man overnight. However, it was only Eben who had to worry.

Seraph Noire knew he had nothing to fear. The mako coursing through his veins kept his body perfectly regulated, no matter the outside temperature. His body had been trained and conditioned to be the ultimate fighting machine, the perfect soldier. Hojo had been made certain of that.

Seraph, whose true yet absolutely secret name was Sephiroth, hated the bespectacled scientist with every inch of his genetically manufactured body. Could he even be called human?

He ran an irritated hand through his dark, silver-streaked hair, succeeding in tucking a few errant strands behind his ear. He had had to change his appearance, so that no one could reveal his true identity. He had cut his hair; it now sat just below his shoulder and had even dyed it. He had changed his dress and his eyes, well; they had changed on their own. He had heard once long ago that they were grey, though he couldn't recall who had told him, rather than the brilliant jade green that Cloud had known him for. Now, they were grayish-moss green as before. They changed from time to time, from granite grey to full blown mossy green. He could hardly be recognized for who he truly was.

Truthfully, he shouldn't even be alive. He wasn't worthy of this second chance. Cloud had killed him, he should have stayed dead. Still, no matter how much he believed his life was worthless, he couldn't find it in him to end it.

There had to have been some reason he woke up on the shores just south of the cold tourist town of Icicle three months earlier. He had been lucky. A couple of fisherman had spotted him collapsed on the gravelly shore and brought him to their home, nursing him back to health.

It was then that Gilgamesh had first started speaking to him. Of course, Seraph was wise enough to know he couldn't go by his true name. Although his memories at that time had been fuzzy past a certain point, he knew enough that he had deserved his original death.

(You are not even listening to me,) Gilgamesh pointed out in an annoyed tone.

'You were rambling,' the grey-eyed man returned easily, picking up the pace of his stride. Eben grumbled but didn't actually speak directly to Seraph.

Gilgamesh snorted and fell silent for a moment. However, the demi-god, despite his intimidating appearance and power, was perpetually fidgety.

(You are still young, you know. The Planet gave you a second chance. You should use it.)

'It should not have wasted the effort,' Seraph returned somberly. 'I killed and destroyed much. There is naught left of worth in this body of mine.'

(I have a feeling 'he' would disagree,) countered the demi death god easily.

' 'He' is better off believing I am dead. For all intents and purposes, Sephiroth died in the crater.'

(He loved you once, worshipped your greatness. He may still feel the same.)

Seraph gave a yank on Eben's bond in irritation, though it wasn't the thief's fault. Gilgamesh and he had often had this very same argument. The brown-haired younger man started to complain but Seraph tuned him out.

'You should not be able to kill the ones you love.'

The demi-god sighed. (Every time we discuss this, you forget the fact it was not he who actually killed you. It was in truth Balaam… and you, of course, returned the favor.)

Seraph shook his head mentally. 'No, it was that man. The one I feel I should know but have no outright memory of.'

(Hmm,) Gilgamesh mused. (By the way, a Jumping is about to attack.)

Seraph jerked out of his mental argument and looked up just in time to see two of the rabbit creatures, called Jumping, preparing to attack Eben and him. For a moment, he reached for a sword that was no longer there. He cursed himself for that and waited for the creatures to attack.

The first white-furred abomination leapt out at him. Eben emitted a high-pitched scream and dropped to the ground, cowering behind Seraph as he did so. The grey-eyed man shook his head at the thief's cowardice and kicked out high and hard.

He caught the first Jumping in the chest, smirking with satisfaction at the sound of broken bones. The monster fell with a plop to the ground, eyes glazed over.

The remaining enemy took one look at its fallen friend and ran away, too frightened to even squeak. Seraph smirked at this before turning his attention to the hiding thief.

"Come along!" Seraph demanded, smacking Eben across the top of his head before jerking the thief to his feet. The brunet stumbled upwards and followed after the grey-eyed man.

They were nearly to Icicle, which was good because sunset was still fast approaching. This time of year it seemed that the sun always went to sleep early.

Eben mumbled as he tiredly stumbled after the silverish black-haired man clad in leather. He really hated Seraph. Especially since he knew the man was going to drag him through town, cuffed as he was and probably make him apologize.

Seraph heard the thief mumbling but chose to ignore it, instead concentrating on the strange, foreboding feeling that was beginning to course through his body. It was a low sensation of dread that was collecting in the pit of his belly and sending his shiver up and down his spine, almost as if he were being watched. He surreptitiously searched the area around him, scanning the foreboding trees and horizon for anything out of the nowhere.

The air still smelled pure although it hinted at an impending snowstorm, and it felt light and airy rather than heavy with trepidation. The birds were still singing, and the Planet was still thrumming. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Seraph frowned, confused by the odd feeling floating through him.

'Do you sense that?' he questioned Gilgamesh as they finally stepped through the front gates of Icicle. There were very few people in sight as most had retreated to the relative warmth of their homes. Most of the shops had already closed down with the falling of the sun, and many were ready to snuggle in front of the fire or relax for the day.

(It is worse than you know,) the demi-god confirmed grimly.

Seraph cursed under his breath, his senses immediately going on high alert as he dragged Eben towards his parents' house. Within moments, he was standing in front of the innocent looking two-story home and knocking on the front door. After a few moments of silence, Seraph could hear the familiar slight shuffling of feet before Eben's father, a graying man of around sixty-five opened the door.

"Mr. Wiley, I brought back your son," Seraph explained in a low voice as he bowed slightly before roughly grabbing the younger man and pushing him towards the door.

Eben snorted and attempted an innocent smile. "Hello, father, pleasant evening we are having, isn't it?"

Mr. Wiley sighed and shook his head. His clear eyes showed much pain at his son's antics, though he didn't speak it aloud. "What was it this time? Were you just bored? Was it a dare?"

Before Eben had a chance to open his mouth and speak, one slightly wrinkled hand shot up in the air, and Mr. Wiley closed his eyes, effectively silencing his son. "No, I don't want to hear it. Your mother and I both are tired of your excuses. Get in the house." His voice spoke of no arguing.

Seraph took the opportunity to uncuff the youth, who had gone pale with his father's tone. It seems he was no longer going to be able to get away with everything. The thief dared an almost scared glance at the grey-eyed man before disappearing inside the house, the sound of his footsteps on the stairs clear to Seraph's perfect hearing.

"Thank you, Mr. Noire." Mr. Wiley bowed slightly. "I am sorry that he has troubled once more. I assure you, however, this will be the last."

Seraph gave the older man a strained smile. He had, after all, heard such a promise before. "Yes, of course, Mr. Wiley. I understand. Good evening." He gave another small and short bow before turning on his heels, intent on going home for the night.

Mr. Wiley blinked at him owlishly before shrugging his shoulders and closing the door behind him. Seraph sincerely hoped that Eben's father was being honest this time and that he and his wife really planned to do something about their errant son.

The granite-eyed man sighed and turned his attentions to the sky. The sun had already descended, turning the horizon a deep, purple blue and bathing much of the area around him in shadow. He wasn't afraid of the dark… there wasn't much that Seraph feared. He had been trained that way… trained to have nothing at all, the ultimate killing machine in human form.

He breathed in deep of the cool, crisp air and abruptly realized that he could no longer stay in Icicle Inn. That deep and foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach just would not leave and he knew his time of complacency was over. His reason for returning to the world of living and his second chance were fast approaching. He would have to leave his comfortable semi-existence and go… somewhere. He wasn't sure where.

"Gilgamesh," he spoke aloud this time, though his tone was quiet because he disliked the strain of trying to carry on a conversation in his head and not display his reactions on the outside. "What did you mean?"

The demi-god sighed. (If it had not been for one troublesome scientist, we would never even need to have this conversation.)

Seraph sneered as he stalked towards the small apartment that the townspeople had donated to him to live in. "Let me guess, that would not be Hojo, would it?"

(Any other and we would have no worries. Yet, that is beside the point. He delved into something he should not have, whose power scale is far more dangerous than that of one half-frozen alien from the stars. You are correct in thinking it is time you left this place. I have a feeling a battle will be starting soon.)

Seraph listened intently to the demi-god as he spoke, mentally cataloguing the things that he would need, and, for that matter, where the hell he was going to go. Masa was still stabled on the outskirts of town, and he had a small stock of Ethers and Potions, not that he would really need them. He had few materia, Poison, Fire, Time, and a now darkened and lifeless Typhoon.

"A battle? Do you not mean a war? If that is indeed, where you are heading with this talk?" Seraph questioned as he dug the key to the small apartment out of his pocket and unlocked the door, stepping into the darkened foyer.

There wasn't much to his temporary home. Three doors spouted off the main hall, the one to the right leading to his kitchen/ living area, the one in front to his bedroom, and the one to the left to a bathroom. It was perfect for the needs of a bachelor. He headed back towards his room, snagging a travel pack from the small hall closet whose door wasn't even worth mentioning earlier, as he passed.

Eventually, he would need to get a sword to replace the Masamune. He would miss the weapon; it was one he had become well-acquainted with. Unfortunately, it had been crunched in the crater, and there was no hope of restoring it. For some reason, this brought to mind one of his friends when he was still in SOLDIER.

Zack had been his closest friend, of course, and with that monstrous Buster Sword they were a perfect match almost. As a pair, the two made quite a stir when they went out. And Seraph, being General of the ShinRa troops, was well-acquainted with Tseng, as well, when he was just second to the one before and when he later became commander of the Turks. The Wutaiian man had started out working with guns only as a secondary weapon before he learned how to shoot and had quite an extensive collection of blades in his home. If… no, Seraph had no more thoughts for if. He would learn to make do with his fists.

(War is precisely what we all feared and what is beginning. The apprehensive feeling you have been experiencing, it is an underlying tension to Gaia. They have more allies this time. I am not sure if we can win…)

Seraph snorted. "What do they want this time? Money? Power? Total and absolute destruction?"

He pushed open the door to his room and entered the darkened area. He switched on the lamp, causing a low light to bathe the room. Seraph stalked over to the dresser and started shoving clothing and supplies into the travel pack. He put the materia into his armlet and shoved the vials of medicinal concoctions into his pack as well.

(Let me give you a hint,) replied Gilgamesh dryly. (They were not called the Four Demons of the Apocalypse just for kicks.)

Seraph shook his head and cursed under his breath, not that he had anything to say really. Under Jenova's influence, he had tried to do the very same thing. Why couldn't the evil ones understand that destroying everything wasn't really a good way to try and take over? What was left over in the end? Nothing. What was the point of it all?

(At least you are admitting to yourself now that that alien bitch had something to do with it.)

"Partially," he admitted aloud. "But still, I was alert. I did not have to let her lead me astray. Sure, it was easy for her to whisper those tempting words in my mind and control me, but I could have fought her. I suppose it was just easier to give in. I sure lucked out on parents, did I not?"

The demi-god was silent as he considered the words of his animus.

It was Seraph's guilt that had kept him hiding out in this small town. He should have resisted Jenova's words. He should have seen through her lies of the Promised Land. And he should have been strong enough to resist her control.

It didn't matter that after his dive into the mako reactor at Nibelheim that his body was no longer under his control. That part was the truth. But he should have never listened to her in the first place. The alien was smart. She knew if she could disconnect his mind from his body she could have control. Convincing him to take a dive into the mako pool at the bottom of the reactor was exactly what she wanted.

That was one side effect of the Lifestream… a dunk tended to separate the consciousness and the host. The many voices of the planet, its screams and cries, were enough to drive anyone slightly insane, and he was no different. It was actually a relief when he felt his mind separate from his body. Jenova moved in, and he became nothing more than a side-liner, watching but unable to change anything.

But still, Nibelheim… Zack… that girl… and the people… that had been him. That had been his actions… Fueled by his anger and hatred, convinced by his confusions and swayed by pretty words of deceit, it had been his choice to destroy the town. It was a petty attempt to get back at ShinRa as all the residents were either employees of ShinRa or connected to it. Yet, they had been innocent. He had shed innocent blood, and, even now, he could feel the weight on his hands.

Seraph threw the pack over his shoulder and glanced once more about the room that was his temporary home for half a year. The place hardly looked disturbed as it was incredibly clean and tidy. He preferred it that way, everything in its place. Then again, he didn't really know if that was how he liked it… or if he had been conditioned to think so.

He shook his head trying to clear away that line of thought. He didn't want to get into "Who Am I?" discussions at the moment. Satisfied that he had packed all things of importance, Seraph turned from the small room and headed out of the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him. Although Icicle didn't really have a problem with crime, Eben excluded, he wouldn't want to make it easy on thieves when the town had been so kind to him.

He debated whether or not he should inform the innkeeper that he was leaving. After all, the robust man had been the one to loan him the apartment. Deciding it was better not to make a scene; he placed the keys in the mail box for the inn and headed for the outskirts of town where Masa was stabled.

He had raised the Mountain chocobo himself, while searching for something to occupy his time over the past three months. Masa was a female and one of the fastest that he had ever encountered. Of course, he had named her after his sword, as if he couldn't truly get away from his past. Gone but not forgotten…

He quietly snuck into the stables and made his way to where Masa was being tended. Most of the stalls were empty this time of year but at least she wasn't lonely. A pretty white Chocobo, whose name or owner he did not know, was stabled next to her.

Masa was currently warbling softly at the other Chocobo, and Seraph couldn't help but wonder at the gender of the unknown one. Was it that time of the month already? He shook his head at his chocobo's actions and unlatched the small hook enclosing the stall.

Masa warbled when she saw him approach and trotted over towards him, nuzzling the side of his face with her own feathery one. He laughed softly and led her from the stable out into the open. He dug into his pack for the leather reins and harness, even as she kept nudging him playfully. He smiled and rubbed her head as his fingers finally wrapped around the straps, and he managed to pull them out. Seraph deftly arranged them properly around Masa's neck and mouth before climbing up on her back and directing her away from Icicle, although he wasn't sure where he was going.

(Seraph,) Gilgamesh began hesitantly. (There is something you should know. It is not my place to tell you these things, but I believe it will give you the direction you need.)

The silver and black-haired man frowned as he listened to Gilgamesh, clucking lightly to urge Masa forward. She warked happily and trotted off towards the horizon.

"What is it?" asked Seraph. "Do you know the location of the apprehensive feeling?"

(Yes and no, but that is not what I am going to tell you. Your mother… was not Jenova.)

Seraph froze in place on Masa's back. Lies… it had to be a lie. Hojo had told him his mother was Jenova. The scientist had driven the fact into his mind over and over. His mother was an Ancient named Jenova. Then again… Hojo had lied about her being an Ancient.

(That is correct. She was only an alien, and she was just used for her genetic material. You had a human mother. I do not know who, but perhaps Hojo's lab and research notes can tell you more.) Inwardly, Gilgamesh groaned. That in itself was a lie. He knew who Seraph's mother was but he was already stretching it thin by telling him Jenova was not. It was up to the grey-eyed man to decide for himself if he wanted to know.

"Midgar…" Seraph mumbled under his breath. "Hojo had a lab in Midgar. I will go there."

If Hojo had indeed lied about his mother, perhaps the mad scientist had lied about his true father, as well. It was a hope that he had never once considered before. Maybe he had a chance… for a real family.

He tugged lightly on Masa's reins and pointed her in the direction of Bone Village. With her mountain climbing capabilities, the journey there would take him half-a-day at most, but being as he was traveling at night, it could take him a little longer. He would have to stop for rest at some point.

(You understand now then, yes?) Gilgamesh questioned.

"Understand what?" the leather-clad man demanded, his voice nearing a growl. "I have been poked and prodded, beaten and whipped, injected and tested on nearly my entire life, and the man could not even do me the courtesy of telling me the truth!"

Gilgamesh performed the mental equivalent of a head shake and sighed. (Perhaps not…) He meant the reason that Seraph had been given a second chance. However, it would probably take longer for him to understand.

Seraph narrowed his eyes as the familiar hatred for his 'father' and previous life welled up in him. What kind of life could he have had if he had only been raised in another way? Or was there any use in trying to place the blame? Everyone had a choice… and he had made the wrong decisions. There were no excuses for his deeds, and he had no designs to try and prove that to anyone.

Was he even worth this new life? Should he even bother to try and contact his true mother? He began to doubt that he should. Was he wasting his time going to Midgar and searching out the truth? Would a mother want to know him, when his soul had been tainted by so much blood? Would she want to know the one-winged black angel of death?

A fierce wind suddenly kicked up out of nowhere, disturbing his inner thoughts, and threw a flurry of ice and snow at him. He put an arm in front of his face to block the flying wind and winced as it struck him harshly. A storm was approaching, and quickly it seemed. He would have to find shelter for the night. Although he could handle it, Masa could not. Maybe this was the meaning of his ominous senses?

(There is a cave less than half a mile to the east at the base of the mountain,) Gilgamesh pointed out.

Seraph nodded and steered Masa towards the cave. He would have to forestall his trip to Midgar and wait out the night in the cavern.

At least with the time spent waiting, he would have long to think.

----

(1) Kudos to you if you can recognize where I 'borrowed' this name from!

So who expected this little plot twist? Probably everyone… I have a bad habit of not letting anyone stay dead… damn is everyone here immortal? LOL.

Review please!


	13. Even the Wisest Fall

Thanks to all my reviewers! Your support is very welcome.

Warning: Limesh content, Battle Action

**(Voice in the Mind)**

**Chapter 13: Even the Wisest Fall**

Cigarettes and tea… the scent seemed to flow through him stronger than any of the other senses. It overpowered his dreams and his subconscious. He could feel hands over his skin, calloused fingertips gliding over his back and chest, tracing the planes of muscle and causing softened nipples to bud under their skilled touch.

It was misty in his dreams, misty and warm with the sensation of water pouring down and around him. Their skin was slick with the soap and liquid as their bodies glistened from the heat of the shower and the steam rapidly filling the small bathroom. It was blue… everything was blue… from the shower curtains pulled against each wall to the tile that lined the enclosure.

Lips pressed to the back of his neck, sweeping away his long raven tresses with one hand. A chin rough with scruff scraped along the sensitive skin of his right shoulder.

Words that he couldn't understand were murmured into his ear as a hard, muscular body pressed against his back. The voice was rough but soothing, evidently masculine, and sent shivers down his spine. He responded to the touch quite vocally, gasping as he reached a hand back to tangle it in messy and short hair.

A hand snaked around him from behind, running a palm over the flat planes of his abdomen and caressing his skin. Rough fingers wrapped around him, encircling the flesh and stroking softly. He unconsciously bucked forward into the touch wanting more from the simple caress.

Lips were on his shoulder again and on the firm flesh of the back of his neck, licking, sucking, biting gently. He turned his head to greet the lips and was welcomed with an equally hungry mouth. A tongue snaked out to lick across his lips before mouths met, and he tasted cigarettes and tea. Back to the flavors once more it seemed.

They didn't fight for dominance nor did one concede. It was a simple meeting of mouths, a shared exploration of moist caverns and a gentle caress. It made him weak kneed, and his mind whirled. The dream seemed to go out of focus and swirl until the scene faded before his eyes to become something new.

He was standing, back to the spray, the warm water beating upon his back and soothing strained muscles… muscles taut with battle and worry, riddled with guilt and self-loathing. The water hit his back at his shoulders, soaking his hair, and flowing down the planes of his body in smooth rivulets before falling to the floor of the rather large tub.

Large strong hands were placed on his hips, thumbs brushing across the bony jutting of his hips. He looked down to see a form, features indistinguishable in the foggy haze, kneeling on the floor of the tub before him. One of his own hands was tangled in the short light-colored hair as the other gripped the shower curtain in an effort to be steadied.

"So beautiful…" The words came, echoing throughout the bathroom, the only clear words he could understand. The same voice that time rough yet sensual, raw with need and filled with an emotion he wasn't sure he was worthy of.

He couldn't hold back the groan of satisfaction as he was surrounded by moist heat. Fire of a sensual nature that made his toes want to curl and his fingers flex intuitively in the hair that he had grasped.

It felt so damn good! It was all so surreal. He knew this had to be a memory, but he could feel every swipe of the man's tongue and experienced the familiar flush of arousal that spread through his body. The water on his back was warm and pleasing, the mist clearing the air and making it all have that foggy dreamlike appearance.

His toes curled against the porcelain beneath him, and his legs trembled with the amazing sensations coursing through his body. He moaned aloud, long and low that echoed throughout the bathroom. He chewed on his lower lip as both hands now ran through the short hair. He was close… so very close.

He came with a cry that resounded throughout the tiled room. For a moment, his entire body went boneless with the force of his orgasm but his lover was there to catch him.

He was wrapped up in arms, thick with muscle and smelling freshly of vanilla, his soap of choice. Lips were pressed one unto the other, and the flavor of tea filled his senses.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Vincent," came the voice, that one phrase clear to him. He couldn't look into those eyes, unable to believe the words. He turned his head away and stared off at the tile.

His mouth moved, words must have come out, but he couldn't hear them. He didn't know what he said. The scene started to get fuzzy, the sound of the falling water fading and drifting away…

Raven awoke slowly, still in a hazy state thanks to that vivid and revealing dream. So… his name was Vincent, was it? Or could he assume that from the dream? He sat up in the bed to try and clear his thoughts nearly blushing when he realized the state of his body. He groaned. Great… getting turned on by erotic dreams of a man he didn't remember and a past he had forgotten…

Vincent… wasn't there a man in Gongaga who was looking for a Vincent? But no… that man had many different characteristics. Besides, there couldn't have been only one Vincent in the entire world. Very well then, his new name was Vincent. Looking down at himself, the dark-haired man willed his arousal to go away. Now was not the time…

"You're going to change your name several times before you're satisfied," chuckled a voice from the doorway.

The dark-haired man looked up through bleary eyes and blinked before realizing that it was Erebus. He flushed red although the demi-god couldn't see him and decided on pretending nonchalance.

For a moment however, he just sat and tried to clear his thoughts. They were still a swirling mess thanks to that confusing dream. He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally before throwing back the covers and swinging his feet around so that he could rise from the bed.

"If you would just tell me my name, I wouldn't have to keep changing it," retorted Raven, who was now Vincent, sharply as he rolled his neck and tried to stretch his muscles.

The demi-god sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned on the closed door, imparting a somewhat irritated gaze on his animus. "You know that I cannot."

Vincent waved a hand of dismissal as he rose from the bed and wandered over to where he had laid his cloak (careful to keep his body angled from the demi-god, of course) and other clothing earlier when Bugenhagen had suggested he rest. He hadn't meant to actually sleep, but looking at the soft and very inviting bed, he knew that he couldn't resist. And so in a moment of weakness, he had showered in the older man's most wonderful shower and collapsed into the clean and comfortable bed for a blissful rest that was soon affected by erotic dreams.

He was loved… somewhere. But he couldn't help but wonder if he loved in return. Vincent struggled to push the erotic images from his mind, knowing it would not do for him to be stuck in a precarious situation, especially since he hadn't taken part in any carnal pleasure since he woke up six months before hand. But flashes of skin and reverbs of moaning kept skating across his subconscious. He groaned and realized it was going to be a long day.

Risking a glance at the small clock on the wall, he realized he had slept for only a few hours. He willed his body to obey him, thinking all sorts of non-erotic images such as Bugenhhagen in the shower or even his anima… ugh. He shuddered without thinking and as a result, his libido was killed. He would have to remember that tactic for another time. His stomach growled hungrily as he slipped into his familiar black pants before wandering into the adjoining bathroom.

"You ought to feed yourself," Erebus commented, his voice clearly able to be heard through the thin wooden door of the bathroom. Vincent rolled his eyes as he flushed the toilet and washed his hands before jerking the door open so that he could hear the demi-god better.

"I'd hate to intrude too much on Bugenhagen's hospitality," the grey-eyed man replied softly.

The dark-haired man looked in the mirror, wincing as he saw the many scars that riddled his slowly tanning flesh. Some looked like battle wounds such as the three round scars of pinched and upraised white flesh that riddled his chest and abdomen. Others, such as the long slashes looked as if someone had been cutting on him just for fun. Then there were others that he didn't even want to think about, such as the two long, thick vertical ones that extended from his shoulder blades and down his back.

He lowered his eyes from the reflective glass and turned on the faucet, washing his hands and splashing some of the water on his face, to help wake him up and feel refreshed.

Erebus had snorted a reply and moved into the room to glance over the well-stocked bookcase. It was simply overflowing with all sorts of titles from history to science to mathematics. The demi-god briefly wondered if the room was really a guest room or someone's personal bedroom.

Suddenly his senses twitched, and he heard a summoning. Withdrawing his hand from the scientific text he was about to touch, Erebus ran to the window and threw back the curtains.

"What is it?" questioned Vincent with a frown when he noticed the odd behavior of his anima. He held a white fluffy towel in his hands and was wiping his face.

"So soon…" commented Erebus in a low, strained voice. Skeletal fingers tightened angrily on the curtains as he cocked his head to the side as if listening.

The dark-haired man flopped the towel onto the counter before attempting to draw his long raven locks into some semblance of a ponytail, so that it would be out of his face. He frowned again.

"What are you talking about?"

Erebus turned to look at him. "Get dressed. You have to get out of here."

Vincent regarded him strangely before moving into the room, swiping his tie off of the bedside stand so that he could tie his hair.

"Why?" the man questioned as he pulled a mysterious red-hair from his hair tie, wondering how it had gotten there.

A cold flush of apprehension suddenly flooded his heart, and he nearly gasped from the odd feeling. The sense that something he knew was approaching, something terrible, hit him so strongly that he almost felt like he was the cause.

"They are coming," Erebus answered with a shake of his head. He abruptly released the filmy white curtains from his skeletal grip and swiftly crossed the guest room floor, heading for the dark-haired man's pile of clothes. He grabbed the shirt and tossed it to Vincent.

He caught it easily and quickly pulled the fabric over his head, his face going pale. "They… you mean the ones that are trying to kill me?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the sound of an explosion rocked through the evening. The view from the window lit up with light, and the house shook in its foundations. It wasn't enough to throw the two males to the floor, but it was more than enough to cause them some worry.

As Vincent hurriedly grasped and clasped his cloak, then buckled the Hell's Fire around his waist, Erebus dashed to the window to confirm his suspicions. It was Gongaga all over again.

Hosts of winged demons and monsters were swarming over Cosmo Canyon. Some of the larger creatures held land borne ones in their grasp, dropping them to the ground as they flew close enough. Dragons, Imps, Gargoyles, and other such creatures… all laying siege to the tiny education town. The demi-god didn't even want to think about what the explosion had been.

And hovering over the town was the bringer of destruction… Pandemona. Erebus remembered his true name of course, but refused to think of the traitor in any other. He never would've believed that the wind demi-god would turn to Balaam's path. Yet, his eyes did not fail him.

The wine colored cloak settled about Pandemona's purplish-blue body as the demi-god hovered above the town. His head swiveled from side to side as it laughed at the Cosmo Canyon residents scurrying about below him, occasionally tossing out a wind magic to thwart them. He seemed to be having fun tossing the humans about as if they were toys. Erebus clenched his teeth in anger, his inner being raging with anger.

"I'm going to find Bugenhagen," Vincent explained as he rushed out the door, silvery-grey cloak fluttering behind him. Erebus nodded though the dark-haired man couldn't see him and tore his gaze from the window. He had to be sure his animus survived… or the war would be lost.

Vincent flew down the steps as quick as he could, eyes darting all about to find Bugenhagen. Erebus wanted him to leave, but the grey-eyed man was not going to leave the kind elder to his fate. Not if the cause was his own fault.

After dashing through the house, Vincent learned that the sage was not inside. Another explosion rocked the air and he stumbled on his feet, almost crashing to the floor. However, he threw his arms out to regain his balance before awkwardly bursting out the front door.

The orangish-red glow of fire instantly met his vision, and he momentarily was brought back to Gongaga in his mind. It was just like before… the sound of screaming, the acrid scent of smoke, the insane cackle of monsters intent on destruction and death. This time the demons were more varied… and this time they were led by a face that should have been one of good. He recognized the wind demi-god despite his memory loss. There were some basic facts that he had not forgotten.

It was then that he noticed Bugenhagen, standing in front of him at the edge of the cliff that his home resided on and looking down sorrowfully at the destruction of his town.

Vincent moved to his side, eyes widening at the grief he saw there. "Elder, are you harmed?" he questioned.

Bugenhagen shook his head negatively. He gestured vaguely out towards his city. "It has begun," he uttered with a heaving sigh.

(You know what must be done,) came the familiar voice in the back of the sage's mind. Bugenhagen exhaled softly once more.

"I only hope that they can get to the escape tunnels," the white-bearded man added in. Vincent regarded him thoughtfully, his heart aching for the sheer amount of distress… and regret that he caught in the older one's ice blue eyes.

The screech of a monster alerted the dark-haired man to the presence of a monster. He whirled around to see three Gargoyles had landed on the ground behind him and Bugenhagen, malicious intent in their eyes.

Vincent pulled out the Hell Fire and shot at one of them, hitting the creature in the chest and abdomen, barely slowing it down. He hurriedly cast Ice, freezing the Gargoyle in enough time to fire another round or two and shattering the frozen monster.

A silver scythe appeared out of nowhere and slashed through a second, cutting it in half. Erebus appeared behind that creature, grinning as it took out the monster.

Now only the third remained, between the demi-god and the human, it was quickly defeated. Panting only slightly from the small battle, Vincent felt the prickle of magic on the back of his neck.

He turned to see Bugenhagen take one small step forward before he yelled out a name. "Isis!"

A great wind picked up, even more so than the ones caused by the traitor Pandemona. It swirled massively, forming a large tornado over Cosmo Canyon, though it did not land and cause destruction.

Vincent watched with mouth agape as the swirling wind began to collapse upon itself, drawing in all air as if it were a black hole and coalescing into a whirling ball of fire and wind.

A great lion-like roar resounded through the area and slowly a figure began to emerge from the flame-like ball of air. Two feet came first, elegant and cat-like, though they were massive. A head, ringed by an intricate golden crown emerged next, another ear shattering roar ringing through the air.

Massive golden wings came next followed by two more feet and a tail that was lit with fire much like Nanaki's lion-wolf form. The great wings flapped once and brought its owner high into the air. The creature roared again, but Vincent found that her roar did not inspire terror but hope.

Fireballs erupted from its mouth, aiming directly for the monsters swarming Cosmo Canyon. Some Gargoyles fell from the sky, victims of cleansing fire. Isis flew in the air, snatching creatures with her giant maw and occasionally burning them to a crisp. The great lioness flew close to where Bugenhagen and a gaping Vincent were still standing. One brilliant blue eye locked on the older man before it flew off to dispatch of more victims.

(Use the magic… get him out of here…) was the message that had been given to the white-bearded older man. He nodded in understanding.

Vincent moved to his side, staring in awe at Isis. "What… what is that?"

"It is Isis, demi-goddess of the sun," Erebus answered, stepping up on the other side of Vincent. "Or as you humans have taken to calling her, Sphinx." Bugenhagen nodded his approval; the demi-god was correct.

A screech was their only warning before a trio of demons swarmed down to attack them. Erebus swiftly beheaded one with his scythe; Bugenhagen cast an amazingly intricate spell of binding and breakage, while Vincent shot the third through the heart, a clean shot. The three demons fell before they even had a chance to strike.

"You must leave," the elderly sage demanded, turning to face the younger man he had taken in and believed he had recognized.

"What? No!" Vincent shook his head negatively. "I am going to fight as well. It is me they want!" he exclaimed fiercely. He was not going to turn tail and run. He hadn't in Gongaga, and he certainly wasn't going to now. No one else was going to die if he could help it; no other blood would be shed, so that he could live.

The elder exchanged glances with Erebus who inclined his head slightly before responding. "Which is why you must go," he intoned darkly. "If you are killed, then this war is lost before it even begins."

Vincent's eyes widened in confusion at the older man's words. "I am nothing, nobody!" he protested loudly.

"We cannot afford for them to gain their power! Nor can Isis and I hold off the droves on our own forever," Bugenhagen argued in return, gesturing towards the city that was slowly being destroyed their eyes.

The grey-eyed man pulled out his gun and started to reload it, replacing the shots he had already fired as he mentally gauged his condition for spell-casting and his stock on materia. On his way through Cosmo Canyon earlier that day he had procured a Mystify and Transform. If he confused many of the demons or turned them to frogs… it would be much easier to defeat them. He looked up and regarded the older man calmly.

"Which is precisely why I must stay." Vincent set his jaw firmly and made his stand. If they weren't going to explain why he had to leave, then he was going to stay. He was no safer fleeing than he was fighting to protect the innocent. "I am but a man, nothing more."

Erebus snapped, hands tightening in their grip on the scythe. "You are just a man, yes, nothing significant," he said slowly, turning his gaze full on his animus. "However, the power within you is not."

A roar, a sudden rush of heat, and suddenly the three were attacked by a pair of red dragons, spitting flame with gleaming blood-stained claws. Bugenhagen threw up a barrier, no materia needed it seemed, and the magic of the beasts was thwarted.

"Leave now," the older man ordered through gritted teeth. "Or yours will not be the only death."

"No!" Vincent argued stubbornly. "I will not run!"

"I'm not giving you a choice!" Before the grey-eyed man could react, Bugenhagen's hand shot out, and he slammed the palm against Vincent's chest.

"Migro!" Vincent stumbled backwards as whirls of magic began to coalesce around his body, tendrils and hands of a spell pulling him into a swirling vortex.

"No!" he argued desperately, trying to break free of the spell as his vision dimmed and tunneled, leaving Bugenhagen alone to fend off the two dragons and protect his city. The dark-haired man fought against the magic, but it was stronger, pulling him into a different space as he was transported.

With a jerk, he was spat out on the ground. He landed hard, face down, getting an unfortunate mouthful of dirt. His body groaned from the impact, jarring as it was. His shoulder ached, the one seemed to be repeatedly bitten and attacked, and his head spun from the sudden teleportation.

"Ugh," he groaned as he slowly sat up, holding his dizzy head. It suddenly hit him what had just happened and he jerked to his feet, groaning again when he received a head rush. "Bugenhagen!" he called out but it was to no avail. He was no longer in Cosmo Canyon.

His mouth was slightly agape as he looked to the south of him and saw the bright orange glare of Cosmo Canyon being attacked. He was far away, somewhere on the plains between it and the next town. It would take him several hours to walk that distance back.

"You are too far to be of any aid now," commented Erebus, suddenly appearing beside him.

Vincent turned to the demi-god and glared. "Take me back!" he ordered solidly.

Erebus shook his head in response. "I cannot do that."

The dark-haired man growled and grabbed the front robes of his animus, though they were of the same height, and shook him. "I said take me back!"

"Even if I wanted to, I could not!" hissed the demi-god in response as he gripped onto Vincent's hands. He pried them quite easily off his robes. "My powers aren't geared for teleportation nor are they made for healing.

"Dammit!" cursed Vincent as he turned to look at the burning city, feeling every bit the useless human he was. "Then you go back! Go help them!"

"And leave you here?" Erebus snorted. "I think not. If you die…"

"If I die," Vincent hissed in response, cutting off the demi-god before he could finish speaking. "Tell me what is so damn important about a mere human that I must be protected like some pampered child!"

Erebus sighed and turned his gaze also upon the town that was slowly being destroyed as a result of a creature's desire for power, like so many wars before.

"All right, you deserve as much," he finally acquiesced.

Vincent crossed his arms and glared at the demi-god. "Damn right, I do. I deserve to know why the innocent are being slaughtered."

"You think that they are only trying to kill you, that there aren't other reasons they are attacking. Yes, perhaps they attacked Gongaga because of you, but they didn't know you were in Cosmo Canyon. That city is being attacked for an entirely different reason."

The dark-haired man frowned. "Why?"

"Why else?" questioned Erebus with a shrug of his shoulders. "War and dominance are what Balaam is seeking. One of the early traitors that started the war so long ago that resigned us all to this fate. If only he had been left in his resting place we would not even have to worry, but some mad scientist decided to seek after the dark power."

"You are speaking in riddles." Vincent snorted disdainfully. "Skirting around the truth and issues, I should have known you wouldn't give me a clear answer. I am going back to Cosmo Canyon if I have to run." He turned from Erebus as if he were going to walk as he said.

The demi-god sighed angrily. "As much of why his power is in you has to do with your past, which I cannot disclaim to you. I do not understand nor agree with that rule any more than you do. However, if I were to tell you your true self without your own comprehension, or your memory returning, you may never be the man you were again. The repercussions of you learning the truth before you are ready could be the destruction of your mind."

Vincent didn't answer as his hands balled into a fist without him realizing. It was aggravating to have the answers so close but unable to be reached. He wanted to be in Cosmo Canyon, fighting against the creature. He didn't like to stand idly by, it was not his way.

Without waiting for Vincent to respond, Erebus continued. "You are acting as a reservoir of power in a way for Balaam. Most of his strength is in you, though you do not know it. Slowly he is reclaiming it and becoming whole, eventually it will all leave from you. Yet, that will take time that we can use to destroy him before that happens. Your death, however, would result in a rush of all the power back to him. And once he has it, nothing will stop him from demolishing Gaia into a wasteland. He cares nothing for using it after all has been destroyed. It is only the chaos that ensues that he rejoices in."

"Why is that such a worry?" Vincent questioned with a frown. "He is nothing but a demi-god right? You said you are really not that powerful…"

Erebus sighed and shook his head. "That is true. However, in his effort to become the ruler, he stumbled upon a recently untapped magic and now uses that."

"And Kami? Why doesn't he come down with his great and terrible power and just wipe this Balaam character off the face of Gaia? He is stronger than the magic, right?"

"He cannot. It is the ultimate law. He can create, but once free will and decisions have been given, he cannot destroy. It is up to us, those who serve him have also been given the choice."

Vincent snorted. "That's convenient. He can watch us do whatever the hell we want to each other but isn't going to lay a finger to do any thing about it." He frowned and looked to the burning city of wisdom. "I only hope Bugenhagen and Isis can protect their people."

"Come then," Erebus said abruptly. "You want to know more. Then go to Nibelheim." When Vincent turned to gaze at him, the demi-god pointed towards the city nestled between the peaks of the mountains of Nibel.

The grey-eyed man didn't answer, choosing to look past the demi-god at the town that he was pointing towards. It didn't look much though the sheer height of the surrounding mountains was impressive. Nor did the sight of Nibelheim spark anything in him.

Shrugging his shoulders, he brushed past Erebus, still slightly angry with his anima and moved towards Nibelheim.

----

Things are rapidly getting out of control on Gaia. Stay tuned to find out more!


	14. Wings of the Protector

Thanks to my reviewers! Support is appreciated!

(Voice in Mind)

**Chapter 14: Wings of the Protector**

The ticking of the clock against the wall was the only sound in the room other than the music lightly playing from the adequate stereo system. A suit jacket was laid carefully over the high back of a chair in which a heavy suitcase rested. The lights were on this time, although not blaringly bright and harsh, but most of the room was still and silent… except for the lone man sitting on the couch.

He seemed like a businessman, dark slacks and equally dark tie accompanied by a pressed white, long-sleeved shirt and an interesting looking tie… it had strawberries on it. That particular tie had been a gift one Gift-giving holiday.

The man, Reeve, sat back on the couch and pulled the binder into his lap, sighing as he did so. It was a photo album and not surprisingly, it was full of pictures and memories. Most were of his lover as his family pictures were in another album.

He fingered the edges of one, smiling as he remembered that day. They had taken a trip out of Midgar as it was before the time they could make their relationship public. They had gone to Costa del Sol for a weekend and hardly left their hotel room except for the day they spent in the water. Reno had gotten sunburned and was whining as his skin tingled and ached. Reeve could only laugh because his skin just darkened.

Then again, one good thing came out of that. Rubbing lotion and cooling oils into his lover's skin had other pleasing side-effects.

As he browsed through the pictures, Reeve's mind was truly in another place. So far in their searching they had not come up with a place where Tifa could be hiding. Most if not all of Midgar had been torn apart in their effort to find her, and it was clear she was not concealed in the abandoned ShinRa building.

He sighed and laid the photo album down on the glass topped coffee table before rising from the couch and wandering over to the window. He pushed the curtains back and stared out at the rapidly darkening sky that was hanging over the remains of Midgar and the land beyond.

Somewhere out there that cruel bitch Tifa had his lover trussed up like some sort of farm animal and tied to a chair. Somewhere on Gaia, Reno had suffered through a helicopter crash, only to end up in the arms of a sadistic vengeful she-devil, and there was naught that Reeve could do. If the Turks could find no traces of his red-haired lover, what hope did he as an executive have? His training in intelligence was vastly outdated, and though it was something that was rarely forgotten, much like riding a bike, he found it all useless. The only thing they knew for certain was that she was not in Gongaga. Great. That only left the other ninety-nine percent of the planet.

Reeve groaned in irritation and cast his amber gaze out over the city. Someone out there knew… there had to be some person that had the information, but they weren't offering it up. Some still remained loyal to the former ShinRa regime despite what had happened. And it was those very close-mouthed people that were hiding what he needed to know.

Cloud hadn't been of any help at all. Like the others, Reeve included, he had thought Tifa was dead and was genuinely shocked to find her still alive. The executive could feel the man's fury of betrayal, even through the telephone lines. The spiky-headed blond explained that if Aeris hadn't have become suddenly ill he would help Reeve search, but as it were, he and the doctor were both concerned for the health of her child. He did, however, say that he would call all of his contacts and see if he could buy the information from someone on the streets. Reeve could only thank Cloud, wish Aeris good health, and hang up.

He could feel an anger rising up in him for his helplessness. A fist clenched at his side, and he had to fight down the urge to strike something. Bouts of immaturity weren't going to help him right now. He had to keep his act together.

Archer, who was currently asleep in Reeve's guest room and had argued greatly against the executive being left alone, had contacted Cid earlier in the day. The pilot had told them about Gongaga, but still, they had no clue as to what had happened. Only that a horde of demons had attacked and destroyed it, seemingly for no reason. He did make mention, however, of a strange man that had defended the town then disappeared afterwards. At the time, he didn't know the man's identity.

Then twenty minutes ago, Cid called back to say that he had gotten a phone call about Vincent. Someone claimed that they had found him, and he was going to rush to Cosmo Canyon; Yuffie and Nanaki were going with him. Reeve wholly wished that it wasn't another trick.

Suddenly, in the corner of his eyesight, Reeve caught something that pulled him from his inner musings. He immediately focused on the object and tried to ascertain what it was. It was a black blob on the horizon and it appeared to be getting bigger. He didn't recognize the shape but he watched it closely, peering through the thick glass as the sun's light started to fade and the sky fell into shades of deep blue and purple.

The executive gasped when he saw that the black shape was suddenly joined by a horde of smaller shapes. All were heading straight for Midgar at enormous rates of speed, coming from the direction of Kalm, from the East. He didn't know what they were, but he was very familiar with the heavy feeling of dread in the pit of his belly. He knew, without knowing why, that those weren't a flock of easy to handle Zemzelett, but rather something far more dangerous.

His hand shot into his pocket, and, without taking his eyes off the window, he hit the speed dial for Tseng's PHS. If Elena wasn't with him, he would just tell the head of the Turks to call her, while he went and woke Archer. After a few rings, the Wutaiian man answered.

"Tseng, here." As usual his answer was crisp and business-like, the perfect example of a man who would step into his place should anything happen to the executive himself.

"Something is approaching Midgar from the East," Reeve explained quickly, skipping all the pleasantries. There was no need with Tseng, only a few people would be calling him and undoubtedly the Wutaian had the President's number programmed into his PHS. The shapes were getting closer and were being joined by even more. He could no longer tell them apart or even begin to count. The feeling of dread in his belly began to grow exponentially, taking leaps and bounds. "I don't think they are allies."

Tseng was silent for a moment before responding. "An attack from Tifa?"

Reeve shook his head, although the Turk couldn't see him. He hadn't for one moment considered that possibility. Tifa was dangerous but not exactly smart or even that well-liked. There was no way she could amass such an army that would give him shivers of trepidation. Neither did he think that the dark-haired girl was capable of controlling monsters, for if his fears were accurate, the beings approaching were not of human origin.

"No, this is something much worse. Probably of the same that attacked Gongaga. Is Elena with you?"

"No, sir," Tseng answered, although Reeve had long ago told the Turk to drop the sir part. The Wutaiian and he were the same age; there was no need for such titles. It made the executive uncomfortable to hear someone like Tseng to call him sir.

Reeve gasped a moment as a bright orange light suddenly began to fill the sky. Fire exploded in great plumes over the city. His earlier assessment had been correct. The creatures were enemies. They had already begun their attack. It seemed their dream of peace was just that… a dream.

"Call her and stick together," ordered the executive, amber eyes locked on the view from his window as his hand twitched at his side, a knife sliding easily into grasp. Ever since the call from Tifa, he had taken it upon himself to be prepared to leave at a moment's notice, unconcerned with leaving Neo ShinRa behind. Reno was far more important… "It's going to be bloody. They've already begun to attack."

"What about you? Is Archer still with you?" Tseng had suggested that Reeve not be alone because of Tifa's threats. Because of that, the President now had an unofficial bodyguard in the form of his best friend.

Reeve winced when he saw another explosion. The largest of the blobs hovered high in the sky. It wore a fluttering black cloak and a pair of wings sprouted from its shoulders, bright red and glistening as if bathed in blood. From the distance he couldn't make out much else other than the glint of metal off of the monster's face and body. It was not an enemy he recognized. Had another of Hojo's manical experiments escaped their notice?

"Reeve?" Tseng's voice cut through his thoughts once more.

The executive sighed and moved away from the window, quickly passing through his house to get to the guest room as he continued to converse with Tseng. "Yes, he is. We are going to go to the roof. I'm going to try and stop them."

"On your own?" the Turk questioned incredulously. "Should I call Cloud?"

Reeve closed his eyes and paused for a moment, considering the pros and cons of contacting the blond. "Knowing him, he already has realized that we are under attack, but it's best to call him and let him know, so that Aeris can be protected. She has been rather ill lately."

"Yes, Mr. President. Will do, sir." The Turk ended the phone call, with Reeve wincing once more at the use of 'sir' before he slipped the PHS back into his pocket. For a moment, he wondered if he even wanted to head ShinRa anymore… it certainly hadn't been his dream job or aspiration in life, to head a mega corporation.

He took another few steps and found himself standing outside the door to the guest bedroom. It was closed tightly as Archer preferred it. He was picky when it came to how he slept. The executive pounded on the door for a few moments, but no one answered. Knowing his friend to be a deep sleeper, Reeve invited himself inside.

It was completely dark. Kyle couldn't sleep unless there was silence and pitch blackness. Reeve reached for the lamp that he knew was on the small table near to the door and switched it on. The soft amber light flooded the room in a gentle glow, and he was able to see Archer lying on the bed, seemingly dead to the world.

The axe-wielding engineer was lying flat on his back, spread-eagled, as if he had just fallen onto the bed and stayed where he fell, falling asleep instantly. He hadn't even bothered to crawl beneath the covers. Reeve chuckled at his friend's strangeness before making his way further into the room.

He could hear the sound of explosions and distant rumbling getting closer and occasionally he would catch a dim flash from the curtains of the window. Their attackers had certainly not come unprepared or unarmed. This had been a planned assault; there was nothing random about it.

The executive stood beside the edge of the bed and reached down, grabbing Archer's shoulders and shaking him. His body rattled but he did not stir. The dark-haired man slept HARD.

"Kyle!" he called out, hoping that the engineer would just wake up. Of course, considering the situation, nothing was going to be easy. Archer appeared to have not even heard him. He snorted softly and turned his head to the side as if trying to get away from a nuisance without bothering to awaken.

Sighing exasperatedly, Reeve tightened his grip on the man's shoulders and raised him a bit off the bed, shaking him violently as he called out the amethyst-eyed man's name. The headboard clattered loudly against the wall. With a start, Kyle's eyes flew open, and he glared at Reeve.

"Damn, Tuesti," grumbled the other dark-haired man as Reeve released his shoulders and let him fall back to the bed. "What is it?"

The executive opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of an explosion and a resulting fierce rattle of the building they were in. Reeve, unprepared for the violent shaking lost his balance and toppled to the floor as Archer shot to a sitting position, eyes wide. The executive's head struck the side of a bookshelf, and he hissed in pain, bright sparks filling his vision. That particular bookcase was solid oak and extremely heavy.

"What the hell is going on?" the axe-wielder demanded as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. He offered a hand down to the fallen executive and hauled him to his feet.

"Midgar is under attack," Reeve answered dully as he allowed Archer to help him at the same time rubbing his head where a knot was already beginning to form. He was going to have a serious migraine in a short while, he just knew it. He looked up and blinked, vision a little blurry and spotted.

The axe-wielder's mouth dropped open in surprise as he ran to the window and threw back the thick curtains. The orange glow of fire and explosions bathed his face and vision, causing him to gasp in surprise.

"Who?"

The executive shook his head. "I honestly don't know, but we need to get to the roof if we hope to build up a defense and attack."

Archer nodded in understanding and hurriedly dressed, slipping on his Aegis Bracelet and grabbing his Labrys. (1) With a head bob to the executive, who was already prepared for battle, the two dark-headed men ran out the door.

-----

Electrical energy raced through the recesses of her mind as if from the top of a mountain. Storm clouds gathered above her and a voice boomed from all around. The words were unclear and detached… not really understandable. It was a dream, but she wasn't sure why she dreamed of thunder and lightning.

White and yellow fire streaked across the sky, illuminating the dark clouds and voices boomed on the wind. The fierce rush of air rustled through her clothing and hair, whipping it about her body. Though chilly, it was fresh and clear of pollution unlike the air in Midgar.

"… Come…. know…. your destiny…" The words were disjointed, but they spoke to her very soul.

Elena strained to understand, but it was like trying to read a ShinRa memo. The words just made no sense. She frowned in confusion and narrowed her eyes.

A fierce rumble echoed through the sky, and a brilliant flash of light struck the top of the tallest mountain. The air seemed to gather at that point, coalescing into a swirling mass that was beginning to collapse in upon itself. Lightning struck the conical whirlwind and began to join in the spin, becoming a twirl of light and air.

A being began to form ever so slowly as the clouds coalesced into a frightening cap above and the ground rumbled below. A hand, wizened with age but still strong and sure, gripped a large staff, elegantly decorated. Flowing robes of white began to take shape, billowing in the fierce wind.

The intensity of the words began to increase. They amplified and echoed all around her, pounding within her mind.

"Learn… say… and call… who am I?"

"I…" Her voice trailed off, the answer unknown to her. She mouth gaped as she watched the mass of whirling air still coalescing. A loud clap of thunder boomed around her.

"Elena!"

With a gasp, she sat up in the bed, heart racing. She burst out of her dream with all the subtlety of a bull horn. Her sweaty hands had been clutching at the sheets, and she struggled to release her stern grip as she blinked trying to clear her vision.

"Midgar is under attack!" came the voice that had rocketed her from her dream once more. She turned widened eyes to the doorway to see Tseng standing there, dressed for combat and already to go. His twin katanas were strapped about his back and his hair was pulled neatly into a tight ponytail so that it wouldn't get in his vision.

The Turks lived in a complex of small apartment-like buildings near to the Neo-ShinRa office. They still maintained their home in Kalm, using it as a relaxion and vacation spot, often times on the weekends when they were 'off' work. Tseng was actually her next-door-neighbor, lucky for her. Of course, Elena, Tseng, and Reno weren't the only Turks to have stayed with Reeve. There were a few others, though they mostly did intelligence and monster disposal. The protection of the president was left up to his friends.

She nodded to show her understanding, and he left from the doorway. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Elena struggled to get her thoughts together. That strange dream had shaken her. Not that it had scared her… it wasn't exactly frightening… it was more like the discovery of something new and exciting.

It was then that Tseng's words sank in, and she bolted from the bed, sheets nearly tangling up in her legs. Midgar was under attack! She hurriedly threw on her clothes and located her gun, searching for spare ammo. Figuring out her dream would have to wait for another time.

She tugged on her shoes quickly and dashed out the door. She rounded the corner and down the stairs at the end of the hall. She could already hear Tseng's cycle roaring to life. But then just as abruptly as she heard the loud purr, another sound distracted her.

There was a crash of glass and then suddenly a great weight barreled into her from the side just as she passed the doorway to the kitchen. With a great oof, she crashed to the ground with a heavy body on top of her. Her mind instantly registered enemy, and she fought back with a vengeance. The smell of unwashed monster filtered through her subconscious.

Elena quickly twisted her body and kicked upwards with a foot at the same time that she reached for the small gun tucked into the small of her book. Her eyes dimly registered grey feathers, a beak and wings. It was a Needle Kiss, a lower end monster but still rather annoying. Dirty talons scraped at her body. She was forced to continually wiggle around to avoid getting scratched. Even so, she still suffered a slash across the back of her arm.

She brought up a knee fiercely, and the bird screeched in response. Her fingers closed around the handle of the gun, and she whipped it out, not wasting in time in bringing it around, aiming and firing. With a slight crack, the gun fired a bullet straight into the heart of the Needle Kiss. It had no time to even squawk in pain. The weight abruptly collapsed on top of her, and she grunted in an unwomanly fashion. The creature absolutely reeked.

"Elena, what the hell are you… Elena!" Tseng's voice cut through the fog of nausea that was beginning to build over her. The damn bird was heavy.

"Get it off!" she demanded, pushing up at the monster. It moved but just barely. One of the back legs was jabbing into her thigh, and it was painful.

She didn't hear him respond, instead recognizing the sound of his feet moving across the wood floor towards her. She could hear the sound of glass crinkling beneath his feet. In its attempt to careen through the window, the Needle Kiss had attracted some of the glass with it. She could feel a few shards digging into her back.

Tseng moved to her side and started to heave on the giant beast. She added her own strength and within seconds the corpse was rolled off of her. Elena wrinkled her nose as she glared at the monster and took the hand that Tseng was offering. She rose to her feet and surveyed the damage.

"Feh!" she snorted, checking her gun over and deciding whether or not she needed to change the clip. "Who's going to pay for my damn window?"

Tseng shook his head at his subordinate and waved an off-hand. The corpse of the Needle Kiss suddenly began to shrink into itself until it was one-eighth its original size and easy for disposal. Elena reached down and picked up the disgusting creature before taking it to the kitchen and throwing it into the trash can there.

Eying her broken window with renewed anger, the blonde stormed back into the living room and followed Tseng out the door. Before they could take two steps beyond the entranceway, they were beset by monsters again. The little beasts had already flooded the streets of Midgar.

Elena started target practice, taking out the smaller frog creatures one by one as Tseng sliced and diced his way through a pair of Jemnezmy, seemingly beautiful women that always appeared with the frogs. Within seconds, the two highly skilled Turks had cleared a pathway to Tseng's cycle.

The Wutaiian Turk climbed onto the cycle first, sheathing his swords as he did so. Elena made to swing a leg over the seat when she happened to glance up. The blonde gasped and stiffened at what her eyes saw. Tseng turned to give her a worried glance before following the line of her sight.

Above them, in the spaces allowed by the tall buildings, the skies were literally swarming with monsters, some of which had never been seen in that area before. Most were flying monsters, and most of those were carrying some that could not. Creatures were falling like rain to the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" Elena questioned as she climbed up behind Tseng and hurriedly reloaded her gun.

He frowned grimly as he kick-started the cycle and the two roared through the streets. "It is almost as if the monsters have declared war…"

They raced through Midgar, Elena occasionally having to shoot monsters that were attacking the citizens, who had not had enough sense to hide or stay in their homes. Tseng skillfully weaved through the destruction still left over from six months prior and some newer additions.

However, before they could get to the Neo-ShinRa building, which by all means should have been only a short ride away, a large creature blocked their way. It was obviously another one of Hojo's experiments gone wrong, something the two Turks had come to recognize as being called the Stilva Dragon. In short, it was a genetic recombination of the Stilva native to Gaea's Cliff and the Blue Dragon. It was one of the more deadly creatures having all three skills of Trine, Dragon Breath, and Great Gale.

Tseng skidded the bike to a halt twenty feet away from the Stilva Dragaon and hurriedly spun the wheels to get away. The bluish-red creature had opened its mouth and was preparing to breathe on them as if it had been waiting. There was a great intake of breath even as the Wutaiian slammed the accelerator before the Dragon breathed out, hot and cold at the same time and inundated with poisonous gas. Elena had twisted her body about so that she could see and nearly screamed when she saw the grayish-blue gas headed straight for them.

Tseng brought up a hand to summon up a shield and managed to do so just in time, but the bike wobbled, not very controllable with just the one hand. Elena quickly turned back around and leaned under Tseng's outstretched arm, grabbing the one free handlebar. Together the two raced away from the breath.

Seeing an opportunity, Tseng jerked the bike into an alleyway and hit the brakes, nearly throwing off his passenger. He quickly jumped from the bike as if the monster was going to attack them in the alleyway and prepared for battle.

"We cannot allow that monster to run free in Midgar," he explained crisply, checking to see what materia he had that would be of use.

"Yes, sir," Elena answered just as seriously. She unclipped the smaller pistols from her belt and reached for the huge rifle that she had slung across her back. She was glad that she had the presence of mind earlier to grab her most powerful firearm.

"Throat first," Tseng ordered. "We have to disable the breath and the gale."

Elena nodded in understanding, and the two slowly crept to the mouth of the alleyway. The Stilva Dragon had not yet moved, as if it were guarding the path to the Neo-ShinRa headquarters. Exchanging glances, the two pressed forward.

They were not going to allow some foul creation of Hojo to destroy what they had been working hard to rebuild.

-----

Reeve and Archer raced up the stairs, cursing under their breaths at the dumb luck that the elevator was out of service. Of all days for the damn machine to break down in a twelve-level building, it had to have been that day. At least both men were still in good shape, and the four-level climb wasn't that difficult.

(You are going to need my help.)

Reeve's head jerked up at the sudden words as he glared at his amethyst-eyed friend. "That's why I woke you up," he muttered angrily in return.

"What?" questioned Kyle shooting Reeve a concerned look. "What are you talking about?"

"This is not the time to be a smartass," the executive responded gruffly. Two more levels and they would be on the roof…

Archer raised an eyebrow as they huffed up another emergency stair well. "I don't…"

However, Kyle's words faded from his ears as suddenly a low chuckling filled his mind, accompanied by the same deep but soft voice as before.

(You are pretending that I do not exist once more, Mr. Tuesti. Yet, you cannot block me out anymore, especially not now when you will need me. Mabuz is no ordinary enemy.)

"Reeve!" Archer grabbed the executives shoulder. Reeve's eyes snapped open and he found he was already standing on the roof, with the wind violently whipping around him.

"You spaced out on me."

"There's a voice in my head," Reeve mumbled as he looked across and out at Midgar, his eyes locking on the form of the leader hovering over the town.

(He would not understand. He is ignoring his other just as you are pretending that I am a figment of your imagination.)

"You're a voice in my head," Reeve argued aloud. "How am I supposed to believe you exist?"

Archer turned to regard him strangely. "What are you talking about?"

(Ask him. See what he says.)

The dark-haired man grabbed his friend by the shirt with an almost fierce expression on his face. "You don't hear it? You can't hear his voice?"

Kyle's brow furrowed in worry at the almost crazed look to Reeve's eyes. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Just then, the sound of a fierce boom and crackle distracted both men. Two pairs of eyes turned to the right and locked on the hovering form of Mabuz, as the voice in Reeve's head had referred to the leader as.

Dark storm clouds were gathering about its head and lightning was beginning to strike all around. It struck the monster but instead of harming it, electricity began to play across the skin of Mabuz. It was as if he could absorb the lightning rather than be affected by it.

Reeve and Archer continued to gape in surprise as all the monsters that had gathered around Mabuz – there were far too many to name or count – began to fly away as if sensing something big was coming. More lightning struck Mabuz as loud, cruel and mocking laughter echoed throughout the air.

(He is going to use his most powerful attack, Livewire!) the voice warned.

Reeve gulped and released Archer, hurriedly checking his materia as the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise from the sheer amount of energy in the air. He did still have his Barrier materia…

"What the hell is going on?" Archer demanded slack-jawed as his axe hung limply in his fingers. They had yet to be attacked by the many demons that were fluttering about, not that it mattered to him. They would get their turn.

The executive said nothing as he shook his head and hurriedly threw up a Barrier over the both of them.

Before Archer had a chance to question any further however, his thoughts were cut off by a sudden explosion of light followed by a violent shaking of the ground. Both men cried out from the brightness and threw up their hands in front of their faces even as they stumbled from their feet and fell to the ground. A furious wind kicked up over them, whipping their hair and clothing about their bodies as the sound of lightning crackled through the air with the intensity of a whiplash.

Amethyst eyes fluttered open, trying to see something but could only discern white feathers and intense light. Archer crouched on the ground, trying to regain some balance as the building beneath Reeve and he shuddered violently. There was another brutal explosion, and the two waited for the impact of Mabuz's attack.

After a few seconds, nothing occurred. The rumbling suddenly stopped, and a cool darkness, not unlike stepping under the shade on a hot day, fell over their body. The two men felt as if they had been taken up into the arms of an angel.

Reeve was the first to open his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the spots from his eyes. What he saw made his mouth gape open in surprise, rendering the executive speechless. He slowly climbed to his feet, staring all around him in wonder.

"What…?" That was the most that Archer could manage to get out as he gawked at the beautiful spectacle.

Around them, indeed around all of Midgar, like a protective cocoon, was a pair of feathers covered in pure white wings. Behind them, the form of Alexander stood proud and silent, flexing the appendages that sprouted from his back almost reflexively. It was the Holy demi-god that had saved them, just like in the legends of old. (2)

Mabuz was nowhere in sight though they could hear dim sounds of the enraged cursings of many demons above them. The crackle of electricity was also recognized and each time, the wings fluctuated in response. Alexander was protecting Midgar and how he had appeared was obvious.

"Aeris…" Reeve murmured under his breath. The flower-girl was the only one who could have done it. Alexander was her summon. He walked to the edge of the roof and leaned on the waist-high border, looking down into the city. Most of the attacking monsters had fled before Mabuz attacked. There were few left in Midgar now, however, they were still there… waiting above to break through the protective embrace of Alexander.

----

(1) The name of a double-headed axe.

(2) I totally stole that from Final Fantasy IX. Snicker


	15. Shocking Revelations

Thanks to all my reviewers! I love you all! I post just for you. Enjoy.

Had to split the two chapters up because Chapter 14 was getting ridiculously long.

Inspired by Motorcycle Chase Theme from Final Fantasy VII

(Voice in Mind)

**Chapter 15: Shocking Revelations**

Elena peeked out of the alleyway to gauge the Stilva Dragon's position before Tseng and she darted out there to engage in battle. It was then that she noticed most of the smaller monsters had disappeared, seemingly vanished from the streets of Midgar. She frowned, noticing the almost emptiness of the streets, though the enormous monster still stood at the far end, clawing on the buildings around it as if bored.

"That's odd," she commented, stealing a glance back at her boss. "It appears that most, if not all, of the lower end monsters have fled the area."

The sound of a gigantic roar accompanied by a loud crash cut off Tseng before he could even respond. He frowned grimly and drew his swords, eyeing the beast with a blank face.

"No time to ponder," he said. "Stilva Dragon's going on a rampage."

Elena nodded in agreement, mentally shoring herself up. She stiffened her shoulders and fingered her rifle almost lovingly. The Wutaiian moved past her quickly, leaving the mouth of the alley with haste in his steps. The blonde stepped out behind him, covering his exit with… well, cover-fire as he did so. She aimed for the eyes and throat of the creature, determined to cut it off before it could use the deadly breath.

She watched with bated breath as her boss moved quickly and determinately, his movements fluid and exact. Unleashed from the constraints of Turk etiquette on the field, Tseng was a vision to behold when he fought. His skill with the twin katanas was amazing, and he was finally able to use his skills to the full potential, rarely flinching no matter the rare cocktail of creatures that had been made for them to destroy. He flitted from side to side, distracting the Stilva Dragon and aided by the special Speed Clip he had started to wear once he had begun hand to hand combat again. It kept a continuous cast of haste on him during battle, making him appear as little more than a blur since he was natural fast anyway.

Then she saw it. The dragon had inhaled deeply, and its body was beginning a slight glow. It was intent on using its deadly attack once more. They had precious few seconds for the blonde to make her shot. Unluckily for Stilva, Elena was the best sharpshooter in the Turks, in all of ShinRa, even rivaling her boss and perhaps the legendary Vincent Valentine himself.

She would not miss.

Tseng leapt high in the air, used his feet, and launched off a wall before he flew at the creature from the sky causing it to look up. The blonde took her chance and shot a well-aimed bullet straight in to the creature's neck where the magic pouch for the death breath was kept. For a moment all time stopped, as it always did when she was faced with taking a difficult shot. All of herself poured into the bullet, and she could literally see a piece of her soul fly into the round and careen off towards the throat of the Stilva Dragon.

With a disgusting squelch, the pouch exploded, sending green ichor in all directions and splashing down the front chest of the creature. The Stilva wailed with a gurgle in angry protest as the attack died in its throat. In retaliation, it swung a clawed appendage at Tseng, who easily sliced it off with one of his swords. He landed safely on the ground in front of the beast and held up both weapons, determination etched into his features.

Elena breathed a sigh of relief at her clear shot and hurriedly pushed her way closer to the battle. She would cover Tseng from afar, not really equipped to go in there with anything better.

She watched, carefully pulling the trigger, as her boss easily danced in and out of the Stilva Dragon's grasp. He repeatedly darted in and made slices into the creature's scaly hide and scores across the tough shell. The dragon was one of Hojo's more deadlier and successful experiments; one of the few that was actually difficult to defeat, but Tseng was holding his own.

A clawed forelimb appeared out of nowhere trying to aim for the dark-haired man's seemingly unprotected back. Elena frowned and quickly took aim, pulling the huge barrel across the sky, firing the powerful rifle in succession as she sighted on her target.

The joint of the limb exploded in a shower of green blood and fell to the ground useless, twitching in its final death throes. She allowed a grim smile to grace her sweaty face as she aimed once more.

The two Turks worked seamlessly together. Elena covered Tseng's movements as the Wutaiian danced around the dragon, twin swords flashing. Stilva Dragon hardly knew where to look in terms of an attack.

The sudden feel of electricity in the air raised the hairs on the back of Elena's neck and heightened her awareness. In surprise, she looked away from the battle to the sky above, shocked to see lightning racing across the sky and a sudden storm approaching.

"Elena! Behind you!" Tseng called out loudly, noting with horrified expression that a Goblin was trying its best to sneak up on the blonde. He made moves as if to help her when a sudden claw in his face distracted him. He hoped his warning was enough.

The female Turk turned just in time to block the attack of the Goblin with the whole of her rifle. It struck the makeshift shield with its fist and growled angrily, leaning in towards her face and grinning evilly as it snapped pointed teeth at her. She grimaced at the disgustingly foul breath of the creature; it seemed all monsters had an oral hygiene problem, and she pushed with all her strength against the gun, forcing the Goblin back. It stumbled, and Elena took the opportunity to swing the butt end of her gun forward, slamming it into the purple-hatted creature's face.

Its neck snapped backwards, and it fell to the ground, blood gushing from a broken bulbous nose. She wasted no further time with the enemy as she off-handedly cast a Fire2 spell and smirked as the body began to burn, the Goblin wailing and writhing within. She felt no remorse, having already seen the blood staining the creature's gloves. It had killed…

Elena turned from her fallen enemy just in time to see Tseng tossed against the wall of a building, more limbs than he could handle having rushed him all at once. He struck the brick with his back and it seemed his whole body snapped with the impact. Elena stared with mouth agape as she rushed forward, immediately loading more bullets into her rifle.

He slid to the ground, miraculously managing to maintain his hold on the katanas and grimaced when he touched the asphalt. Elena moved as close as she could, but still outside range of the limbs of the dragon and took careful aim. One shot later and she had removed the creature of one of its many eyes.

Meanwhile Tseng was muttering angrily under his breath and rising to his feet. He offhandedly wiped a trail of blood from his mouth where he had bit his lip and turned his entire glare upon the Stilva Dragon. It was one that frightened many people and should have at least made the monster have a change of heart. He frowned and brought up his swords, holding them in front of him, blades touching in the form of the letter 'T'.

As Elena distracted the Stilva Dragon with a barrage of well-placed shots, Tseng decided he was tired of playing games with the dragon. The monster was going to get sliced to ribbons. He closed his eyes and cast one of his favorite spells, that of the ever elusive Yin Yang materia that he had spent much of his younger years in search of. His swords began to glow a brilliant white light that flashed once.

When the luminescence died, Tseng opened his eyes and couldn't help the smirk that broke out on his face. One blade was now tinged with ice, it would deal slices covered in the dangerous hoar frost. The other blade pulsated with a fiery light as flames licked at the tip. It would cut with searing accuracy. The elements reflect in his grey eyes, and it was clear why Tseng was such a fearsome opponent.

He set his gaze on the Stilva Dragon and made his move. He darted into battle, movements made fast with the help of his haste accessory. Tseng dashed in and sliced at the monster with the bluish blade, causing something akin to a freezing spell to race along the body and down into the wound. The dragon howled in pain and tried to swat at him, but he easily cleaved the limb in two with his burning reddened-katana.

Stilva growled angrily and planted its back two feet in the ground, the enormous limbs causing the ground to shake slightly. The Wutaiian fought to stay on his feet as he nimbly dodged all attacks and made many slashes at the creature. The resounding bangs of Elena's clear shots echoed on the air.

One of the creature's limbs rose up high into the air, and electric energy raced from the tip. It was attempting to cast one of its more powerful attacks, Trine.

An energy aura began to build in the narrow roadway, shaped like a triangle and rapidly rotating as it slowly gained in strength and size. Electricity raced along the edges and fired amongst itself on the inside.

That was how the Trine worked. It would slowly grow until it occupied all space, and it was either dispersed by an Earth type-spell or it released the energy on an unfortunate target.

"Tseng! Call Titan!" Elena called out as she quickly recognized the Stilva Dragon's attack.

Tseng nodded in understanding and darted away from the dragon long enough to press a finger to the summon materia and call for Titan.

"Anger of the Land!" the dark-haired man summoned. He waited for the ground to shake as it was supposed to… but nothing happened. Frowning, Tseng looked down at the materia and noticed that instead of actively swirling and glowing a bright red, it was dark and lifeless, as if all energy had been stolen from it. What had happened to Titan?

Thwack! The sound easily carried across the battlefield as Tseng looked up startled to see Elena thrown forward and into the massive electrical barrier. An enemy had snuck up on her from behind. She screamed as her body struck the electricity and writhed. She careened backwards and fell to the ground, twitching lightly as the energy raced through her body, some lightning coursing across her skin.

Tseng moved to help her when suddenly a limb of the Stilva Dragon was in face. It flapped its wings and brought up a huge whirlwind that threw debris and dust up into his face. He was forced to shield his eyes even as he attempted to de-limb the monster.

The monster that had struck Elena, a strange multi-eyed creature called a Vargid Police, moved forward to finish the job. Suddenly, it paused and looked to the sky, distracted by the sound of rumbling and shaking.

Brown eyes popped open below him and a plan was formed. Acting quickly, Elena took a chance and pushed herself up with her arms, flipped very skillfully and kicked out at the monster's head with her foot. It struck easily, with a sickening sound, and the creature stumbled backwards. In the same moment, she reached for the pistol in the small of her back and withdrew it. Without waiting, she fired several times into the monsters head and ignored the thick blood that sprayed all around her. Her eyes sparkle with unknown energy and it seems that lightning flashes within her pupils.

Elena pivoted on her feet, ignoring the falling of the body behind her and grasped for the rifle that she had dropped. She was surprised by how well she felt. For some reason, although the electricity had caused her body to writhe she had felt no pain, only a vague feeling of power. Her initial cry had been one of surprise, not fear or pain.

Her eyes traveled upwards, and she gasped. Stretched out over the city, as far as her eyes could take her was a blanket of white to replace the eerie storm clouds. The blanket seemed to flex and move, seemingly more like white feathers.

"What the hell is going on?" questioned the Turk aloud as she questioned the spectacle above her.

The sound of Tseng's cursing brought her attention back to the battle at hand. She looked and found her boss rapidly leaping and twisting to avoid the attacks of the Stilva Dragon, as well as another Needle Kiss that had appeared out of nowhere. She couldn't help but wonder where all the minor monsters were coming from. Earlier she had seen none.

Taking a step forward, hand held out tentatively, she pressed and touched the electrical field. It resisted her when she applied the barest hint of force but with further attempts she was able to push through it. The most surprisingly point was how it did not hurt her at all. Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Elena forced herself to walk forward, through the Trine attack.

Lightning streaked inside the globe and struck her the moment she was completely encased by the field. She flinched, expecting to be burnt horribly and sent into convulsions. But nothing happened. There was a tingling to her skin and a vague feeling of being empowered… but nothing life-threatening. It was enlightening… that, and the whispers that were gathering at the corner of her subconscious.

Finally, she popped free and on the other side of the Trine attack. Electricity flashed across her skin and hair, and she literally tingled. She heard the sound of tittering and cackling and turned. Behind her, on the other side of the Trine, monsters were approaching, drawn by the sound of the battle. There were a good mass of them, probably more than Tseng and she alone could handle, especially given the Stilva Dragon they were still fighting.

The blonde returned her attention to the battle at hand and watched as Tseng finished off the Needle Kiss, only to come face to face with a duet of Goblins and the dragon making goals to destroy him. An arm went flailing out towards the Turk's unprotected head when a sudden idea flashed through Elena's brain. She sprinted forward, rifle falling to the side.

The blonde dove, grabbing onto the dangerous limb with all her might. It dragged down with her weight, but then something odd happened. She had successfully kept it from meeting with her boss' back, but now electricity was racing from her body, out through her hands and into the appendage. It coursed through the arm and caused the Stilva Dragon to gurgle out in pain and shock. She struggled to hold on as it waved its limb back and forth, trying to disengage her. She hadn't expected the second arm to suddenly come up, grab the back of her shirt and rip her away only to be tossed like a rag doll.

She slammed into the electrical barrier but couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face. The idiot monster couldn't understand that the Trine attack wasn't working on her. Elena could feel the energy racing through her as she absorbed it all. With a resounding pop, the Trine attack faded and disappeared. She forced her body to slide to the ground, as if defeated, to further trick the dragon and watched through slitted eyes as Tseng burnt and froze the two goblins that had attacked him with his katanas.

All of the sudden, the ground trembled violently enough to nearly shake the Turk and the dragon from their feet. Everyone, enemy and friend, looked around in confusion but couldn't find the source of the shaking. Midgar had never had so many earthquakes in one day.

A piercing roar echoed through the air which didn't come from the Stilva Dragon. It filled Elena with hope and encouragement rather than fear. She instantly knew in her heart that it was the call of a friend and not another enemy.

Stilva gurgled angrily in response, sensing that it was foe and concentrated all attacks on Tseng, believing that victory was at hand. The Wutaiian moved quickly to avoid the dragon while Elena tried to decide on a battle plan that would work to her advantage. It was then that she ran out of time…

It all happened so fast Elena had scarce time to breathe, her mind trying to register the events that had just transpired.

The dragon threw its appendages at Tseng with renewed vigor, chomping at the flitting dark-haired man with angry teeth and flailing with clawed limbs, despite its obviously injured state. It was a mystery as to why the thing still managed to stand and live. Tseng was doing his best to avoid each attack, but his quickened movements were slower than usual, and it took Elena more than a moment to figure out why. He was injured and favoring his right leg where the fabric of his gi was torn as if something had bitten into him.

The Wutaiian stumbled once and the dragon took its chance. Several limbs shot out at him at the same time. His eyes flashed angrily as he sliced off the first then the second, but wasn't quick enough to turn and slash the third. He barely had enough time to bring his katanas up for defense… but it wasn't enough.

"Tseng!" Elena stared with horror as she pushed herself up from the ground and pounded across the pavement. Tseng fought to push away the clawed limb with failing strength as the sheer power of the Stilva Dragon was far more than his own. It pressed him backwards and into a wall. He could feel the blood trickling down his abdomen where the tip of the sharpened claw had pierced him. It was like the Temple of the Ancients all over again to the pained Turk.

Then suddenly, a giant sword flashed and cleaved the Stilva Dragon from behind, nearly managing to decapitate the creature except for just missing the head. Elena gasped… she would recognize that sword anywhere except that Cloud should be at home, protecting his pregnant wife.

She watched with widened brown eyes as a spiky blond head peeked out from behind the Stilva Dragon, hands wrapped around the hilt of the large sword. He was struggling to hold on as the creature swung its head all around, trying to dislodge its attacker. An idea hit Elena like a speeding bullet.

"Cloud! Let go!" she called as she put on a burst of speed and ran towards the creature, nimbly dodging its attempts to attack her.

He looked up, blue eyes flashing, and nodded when he saw the grim determination to her face. He let go of the hilt and did a back flip out of the way, landing easily on his feet and ending up in a crouch. He moved quickly, scampering away from the flailing limbs of the Stilva Dragon. Cloud locked his eyes on Tseng's plight and grabbed onto the appendage that was piercing the Wutaiian Turk.

Elena's feet pounded across the pavement. She pushed downwards and leapt high into the air, balling her fists as she did so and feeling the electricity coursing through her body. She grabbed onto the hilt of the sword and listened to some inner part of her.

"Lightning Rod!" She called out. Almost immediately, all the power flowing through her body raced to her hands and into the weapon. It coursed through the metal of the giant sword and directly into the body of the monster that the weapon was imbedded in.

The Stilva Dragon shrieked and gurgled in pain, limbs flailing all about as electricity of great magnitude spread throughout its body from every appendage. The smell of burning flesh filled the air causing Elena to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She could feel her body draining of all the absorbed electricity, and she didn't feel as highly charged as before.

(Let go now! Before it takes your life's energy!)

Elena released the sword in her shock and was thrown away from the creature as a result of its flailing body. She crashed to the ground behind the dragon, landing hard on her shoulder. Pain raced through her side, but she ignored it as she struggled to get to her feet and watched as the Stilva Dragon continued to convulse before it gave a loud gurgle of pain and promptly blew to bits.

Dragon gore flew into the air, bathing the buildings and surrounding area with bits and pieces. Cloud's sword clattered to the ground, completely fine, but Elena had to throw up an arm to protect her face from getting covered in Stilva juice. The smell of charred dragon flesh spread quickly throughout the area. It was all rather disgusting.

The blonde Turk pushed herself to her feet and gawked at the street that was now covered in the remains of Hojo's experiment, the many monsters that were staring at the three of them in with thinly veiled bloodlust, and the flash of blue light that indicated Cloud was healing her superior. Shaking her head to clear her moment of indecision, Elena hurried to Tseng's side, taking a moment to grab Cloud's sword and drag it to him. She couldn't understand how the wiry somewhat short man could lift the damn heavy thing.

"Boss!" she called out, running to his side. He had a pained look on his face but he seemed fine. More irritated than anything. "You have a penchant for getting stabbed through the gut, sir?" the blonde questioned.

"Elena," Tseng began, shooting her a glare. "Shut up."

Cloud shook his head, taking the sword from the two of them. He turned his gaze on Elena, pinning her with an inquisitive glance.

"How are you able to do that?"

The blonde shook her head, frowning slightly as she kept a close eye on the beasts that were rapidly approaching. The three of them didn't have long before they were surrounded.

"I don't know. More importantly, why aren't you with Aeris?"

Cloud smirked. "She's at the church. She's safer there than anywhere. It's around the corner from here. I heard the commotion and came to investigate. Good thing I did, eh?"

Tseng shook his head and coughed slightly. "We had a handle on it," he remarked dryly as he picked up his katanas and inspected them. He was proud, even faced with the strength of the Stilva Dragon; they had not cracked.

"Yeah?" questioned Cloud with a raised eyebrow. "And what are you going to do about those?" He pointed out towards the approaching hordes of monsters.

Elena shrugged. "We've got the bike. We'll just plow through them."

Suddenly, Tseng appeared thoughtful as if recalling something important. A slow smile began to creep across Cloud's face. The two men seemed to be having the same idea as they exchanged glances.

"What?" the female blonde questioned as she looked between their faces. "Why do the both of you look as if you are going to do something stupid?"

The two men started to jog towards the bike without answering her. Elena was forced to follow along or be left out of the idea. She scooped up her abandoned rifle as she moved, noting that the monster horde was crowding the road and filling up almost all available space.

The three ducked into the alley way where the bike was parked. Almost immediately Cloud jumped on the back of the bike and started fiddling with the controls.

"Can you handle it?" questioned Tseng.

The blond nodded. "It's simpler than the one I stole from you guys and knowing you, probably twice as powerful."

The Wutaiian Turk nodded. "Good." He turned to face his subordinate. "I want you to go to the church and stay with Mrs. Strife. I know it is safe there for her, but I would feel better if she weren't left completely alone."

"What are you going to do?" frowned Elena.

Tseng smirked almost devilishly. "Cloud and I will take out those monsters."

The ex-SOLDIER nodded. "If you leave out this alley on the opposite end and follow around to the right, the church is past the intersection where the dragon lies in pieces. You can't miss it."

Cloud started up the bike and revved it experimentally, grinning at the power he could tell was behind the engine. Tseng cast his subordinate a look before climbing on the bike behind the blond, hanging on with his knees as he held a sword on each hand. It was then that Elena understood what they were going to do.

She nodded. "Yes, sir." The blonde hefted up her rifle and started to jog towards the opposite end of the alley. She peeked out from around the corners, noting with surprise that there wasn't a single monster in sight, as if they had concentrated on the other street.

"Elena?" Tseng called out over the roar of the engine.

She turned back to glance at him.

"Be careful," he ordered.

She smiled and nodded. "You, too, boss." With that said, she cocked her rifle and stepped out into the street, moving quickly towards the church.

"Shall we?" Tseng asked rhetorically as he turned back to face Cloud. He could already hear the growling of the monsters even over the rumbling engine.

The blond nodded and pressed foot to accelerator. The bike shot forward, nearly dislodging both its occupants. Cloud cast a grin over his shoulder and revved the engine as they shot out of the alleyway and turned right heading towards the approaching horde.

Tseng tightened his grip on the sword, a strangely excited look to his face. Cloud didn't hesitate; he dove right into the mass of them. Almost immediately Tseng started to hack left and right as the blond cast spells at every opportunity, moving so quickly thanks to the ranks that they didn't get injured.

It was strangely reminiscent.

-----

Even being able to see the pure white wings with his own eyes, it was hard for the dark-haired executive to believe what had just happened.

However, he was hardly given the chance to think before his mind began speaking to him once more.

(The battle is not yet won. Call me, Reeve; it is time.)

The executive shook his head, taking a step backwards, though it was from an invisible enemy… ally… he wasn't sure what.

"I don't know who you are!" he protested weakly, gesturing wildly with his hand. But he was lying… slowly and surely a dim memory was surfacing. Of voices he had been ignoring his whole life… of an imaginary friend when he was younger that his mother had punished him for talking to… and of an old myth that had always stirred something in him.

Silver… he had always been silver. The dragon from the story, the hair of his friend and the soothe sound to the voice like polished metal. It was just as real to him then as his connection and skill with casting was now. Yet, he had pushed it down for so long… could he remember?

(You know me.)

Reeve nodded slowly, amber eyes widening. For a moment he was surprised that he hadn't heard a word from Kyle. Yet, little did he know, his friend was too busy listening to voices within him, as well. Time was running out for the people of Gaia, and everywhere… heroes were being summoned once more.

The executive's mouth opened and gradually his lips moved, forming one name.

"Seiryu…"

There was a bestial but vibrant roar resounding through the air. The ground shook but not quite so violently as before, and a great ball of light burst from the streets below; yet, it managed not to destroy the lain concrete at all. In a brilliant cone of silverish luminescence, it came to a halt just in front of the top of the building where Reeve stood wide-eyed. Without thinking, the executive climbed to the top of the border and looked down at the streets of Midgar. It was so far.

"Reeve! What the hell are you doing?" He heard Archer, but paid the man no mind as the light whirled to form a shape, one from his memories. It became… a silver dragon, sleek and powerful with huge wings and dangerous talons. The dragon, who was Seiryu, growled softly before flapping its wings.

As if there were silent agreement, Reeve nodded before leaping down from the border… into the vast space of nothingness before him. Archer's eyes widened in surprise as it seemed his friend had just committed suicide.

Seiryu moved so quickly that he had no time to perceive it. Within seconds, Reeve had landed safely on the massive, scaled neck and was saddled on the dragon.

"Learn to listen, mist-child," the enormous dragon boomed as he flapped his wings with powerful muscles and carried his other high into the sky, heading straight for the feathers above. "Perhaps you will also know the thrill of flying without wings."

Reeve looked back to see Archer standing on the rooftop, internally fighting with something even as he gazed steadfastly after his friend. However, the executive was given no more time to ponder as Seiryu beat his wings much stronger and carried the two of them upwards.

Seiryu…. or as Reeve had once known him Bahamut, was a beautiful creature. He was sleek muscle bathed in metallic armor of silver proportions. The wings were over twice his body length and tipped with claws at the end. Intelligence shone in the ancient blue eyes set in a face still young.

Reeve looked up into the canopy of whiteness, almost fearing a collision. Yet, as if in some unspoken agreement, the feathers parted just slightly to allow them to pass. Dragon and rider were through without coming to harm.

Above, all was a panic. The monsters that had fled from the city had returned in full force and were waging war against the feathers of Alexander, trying to break through. Mabuz was continuously beating upon the beautiful wings attempting to injure the demi-god enough to leave.

Reeve grew furious at the sight of the monsters tearing at the demi-gods beautiful and pristine feathers. A low rumble began in his chest as he growled angrily. A tremor passed through the dragon beneath him and he knew Seiryu felt the same. Without thinking, Reeve started to attack.

He cast Comet and Contain in quick succession, throwing the magic out almost as fast as he could call it to his lips. Monsters were cursed beneath arsenal from the sky even as they froze or burnt to death thanks to Contain. Seiryu was no less busy. He breathed angry elemental light upon the many creatures, vaporizing them where they stood so that nothing remained.

A lonely imp decided to be brave, flying in close behind Reeve to try and knock the rider from the dragon. He aimed a small pitchfork at the executive, not expecting that Reeve would have weapons as well as magic. With a flick of his wrist, a dagger was placed into his waiting hand and the dark-haired man wasted no time in disposing of the troublesome imp. He hardly watched as the body fell from the sky, victim to his dagger.

Seiryu rumbled his approval, breathing another searing light upon the vile monsters.

A loud shout distracted Reeve. He looked below him with widened amber eyes only to see Archer on the back of another dragon, cresting from the wings and soaring up into the sky. There was a huge grin on the amethyst-eyed man's face as he threw a fist up into the air and whooped happily.

The dragon that Archer rode was another beauty. Her scales were a wispy grey-ish white, giving her the illusion of being a misty fog. Though she was slightly smaller than the bulky Seiryu, she made up for the difference in size with speed. There was no doubt that Archer's dragon was much faster than Seiryu.

"Tiamat," Seiryu spoke aloud in response to Reeve's unasked question. "She is the Myst dragon, Tiamat. One that was lost to the people of Gaia. I think even her summon materia was forgotten."

"She is beautiful," Reeve responded almost in awe. He had never heard of Tiamat, but he couldn't deny the demi-goddess' loveliness. Every bit of her seemed dainty and delicate but had a hard edge of diamond. The mist dragon moved through the air easily and swiftly, Kyle and her working together as if they were life long buddies to destroy the hordes of monsters above Midgar. She breathed an icy and poisonous acidic gas on the enemies; yet, she was so precise, she never once injured Alexander by doing so.

Seiryu rumbled in agreement. "That she is," the silver dragon purred as he banked hard to the right to draw up alongside Tiamat.

The wisp-colored dragon looked over at the larger male and chuckled aloud, the sound reverberating throughout her body. "Just like old times is it not, Seiryu?"

The silver dragon laughed in return. "History repeats itself, that never-ending cycle of time. What do you think?" He inclined his head. "We should take out the bastard again, should we not?"

"I don't know what's going on," Archer interrupted, yelling to speak over the sound of battle and rushing wind. "But if it involves destroying that beast that threatened my home, I'm in for it."

Reeve nodded solemnly. "I couldn't agree more."

Tiamat snickered. "Well then, my beloved animus, what say you we blast him from the sky?" She had truly missed fighting alongside the creatures of Gaia as they were meant to fight, together rather than as separate entities. The zeal for life that these mortal beings carried was a breath of fresh air for them of immortal age.

Archer reached out a hand and glided the gloved limb across the back of the dragon, over the scales as if petting the demi-god. "With you, sweetheart, I think I can do anything," he teased. He hadn't known her that long, but already Kyle was issuing his charm.

Seiryu growled as if warningly and spoke up. "Let's go, manling. There's a demi-god to be taken down before Hephaestion loses his strength."

"Demi-god?" questioned Reeve startled. "That… thing is a demi-god?"

It was Tiamat, who answered. "None other than Mabuz, the guardian of the gates to the underworld."

"Psh," Seiryu scoffed. "It matters not who he is. We will take him down as we have before. The time for questions can come later."

Archer gripped his axe tightly and called a flame to his hand, something similar to Fire2 as his eyes shone brightly. "I couldn't agree more."

Tiamat nodded in agreement and put forth a burst of speed, beating her wings furiously and banking to the left. Seiryu followed her example, and the two teams of anima and animus were making their way to do battle with Mabuz.

----

Phew! That upper battle took a lot out of me.

How's about leaving me a review to revive me?


	16. Ruby Light

Thanks reviewers! I keep writing for you!

(Voice in Mind)

**Chapter 16: Ruby Light**

He opened his eyes slowly, carefully letting the bright light blind him. Uhn…. starbursts and color flooded his vision, and bright spots of something pulsed behind his eyeballs. He groaned aloud as he shifted in his crumpled position on the floor. The scarlet-haired man could feel his head starting to ache, and his mouth tasted like dry cotton. He licked his lips experimentally, grimacing when his tongue felt like sandpaper.

Reno groaned and tried to get in a position where he wasn't kissing the floor or twisted uncomfortably. His neck twinged, and his spine cracked. He blinked trying to clear his blurry vision even as he couldn't help but wonder where the hell he was.

His mind was pretty fuzzy… or so he discovered as he attempted to recall his last memory. He could remember the helicopter crash and crawling out of the wreckage… that was clear as day. And judging from the pain in his ribs, it wasn't that long ago either. He vaguely recalled voices and a blow to the head. After that, everything was blank and confused.

The voice, however, was very familiar. He remembered the feeling of stark recognition and surprise. Tifa… that damn manipulative bitch. Though there had been a time the two of them were on the same "side", he despised her. She had no honor or sense of pride in herself. Money and power were the only things that she sought. To turn on her friends and trick them like that, Reno couldn't understand how a person – though killer that he was – could do such a thing. And now judging by what he could remember and assume, he was in her custody.

Wonderful.

His head still ached miserably, his ribs were on fire, and he was about to die of thirst. A quick check of his arm and pockets and the Turk knew he had also been disarmed of both his weapon and materia. He groaned aloud. His situation wasn't looking that great.

(It is alright, hee hee. We'll get out, Ichigo!) came a voice in his head, light and cheerful, like a child's. He was surprised that he did not find it unpleasant, considering the way that his brain was pounding against his skull.

"Great," muttered the Turk aloud. "I'm also hearing voices."

He slowly sat up on the floor and looked around. He was in a room pretty much devoid of all furniture, except for a small four-legged wooden chair that looked decidedly wobbly and unfit for use. There were no windows and only one door, which looked too sturdy for him to even think about kicking out. The walls were white-washed and dull; beneath him was dark blue carpet rather thin and well worn. Reno assumed for the time being that the door was locked until he could find his way to his feet and trot over there to find out for himself.

There was a light-hearted giggle in his head as the child-like voice spoke again. (Don't worry so. You're not going crazy. I'm here to help you, yo. Tee hee.) It was even using his own speech patterns against him.

Reno decided to humor his deranged mind, still firmly entrenched in the belief that the blow to the head might have knocked something loose. "So, how are you going to help me, whoever you are?" he questioned, pushing himself slowly to his feet.

The red-haired Turk swayed a moment, his legs feeling weak and jelly-like. He wasn't about to fall back to the floor, however. Sheer determination kept him upright. He waited a moment for the world to stop spinning.

(You called my name once. You can't remember it now? Phooey, and we worked so well together, too, defeating that nasty rotting Dragon Zombie,) the voice had taken on a pouting quality, disappointment clearly evident.

Reno frowned in confusion. Dragon Zombie? But the only time he had fought one was over six months ago while trying to find Sephiroth in the crater… "Carbuncle?"

It giggled, sounding remarkably like wind chimes tinkling. (Close! But I have an older name you know, Ichigo. Just like you haven't always been "Reno",) he responded mischievously. The Turk couldn't really be sure if the voice was male or female. Figures that a voice in his head wouldn't be some sexy, alluring woman but something child-like and bordering on annoying.

The scarlet-haired man tried to remember that battle through the pounding in his head. He remembered green fire and black and white shadows bursting all around them and vaguely recalled Cid flying through the air. His recent head injury was probably what caused his memories to be so fuzzy.

But first and foremost on his mind as he pondered his past, Reno wondered why the summon was even speaking with him. He didn't even have his materia. Then again, he had hit his head pretty hard. It was like that one time he had gotten so drunk off of Nibelheim Ale that he could have sworn that he had three feet and sprouted purple polka-dots, and Reeve had to cart him home over one shoulder. Hmm, Reeve… Reno pushed thoughts of his fiancé aside for the moment and concentrated on escaping.

He moved towards the door, experimentally trying the knob. As he had expected, it was locked. Sighing, Reno dug into his left hand sleeve for the special lock-picking kit that he kept there from his earlier days living in the slums. Lucky for him, Tifa and her gang hadn't thought to check there for anything and had missed it.

He bent to bring himself eye level with the lock and had to stifle a gasp of pain from his ribs. They protested every movement, making him feel dizzy and causing him to sweat. He was breathing heavily as a result, every breath feeling jagged with knives.

(I could heal you, yo!) giggled Carbuncle, imitating the Turk's speech patterns once more. (But I cannot do it from here. You have to call me out.)

Reno rubbed his aching head and felt a wave of dizziness strike him again. His weak legs gave out, and he dropped to the floor, just managing to kneel on one knee and avoid smacking his head. He growled angrily at himself and cursed the helicopter crash. He had probably broken quite a few ribs in the crash and was surprised that he hadn't coughed up any blood as of yet.

He settled on the floor and tried to think, remembering the battle against the Dragon Zombie. He had called Carbuncle without knowing why or how and the summon had come. But the name… what was it? Something with an… A?

He mused for another moment until finally something clicked, more like it was being whispered across his subconscious and he only had to be silent to hear it.

"I feel really stupid, yo," he mumbled under his breath as he shook his head. Rolling his eyes, he decided to give it a try.

Reno shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. "Asclepius," he drawled, not really expecting anything to happen. The ground didn't shake, thunder didn't crash, and there was no booming voice. Reno shook his head at his own silliness, convinced he had merely gone crazy.

Suddenly, hands pressed over his eyes and a recognizable voice chirped merrily in his ear. "Guess who, yo?"

It was then that Reno felt the first gentle and cooling tingled of magic through his body. He relaxed to the touch and allowed the… summon?... to do his work.

"Are you always this cheery and playful?" the Turk questioned.

Asclepius giggled again and removed his hands. He moved to the Turks front and sat down cross-legged in front of Reno, grinning broadly. "Only around the humans and such that I like…"

"Wait a minute." Reno frowned and took a second look at the summon's appearance. "You look like a human," he stated with confusion.

He was correct. Asclepius had taken the form of a lithe young man with soft mint skin and bright green hair. The garnet gem was still in the center of his forehead, and he wore fuzzy loose pants and a fuzzy loose tunic-like shirt with simple black shoes. His eyes were a brilliant red, like rubies and shone in the dimly lit room.

Asclepius giggled. "Of course. It wouldn't make sense for me to appear in this small room in my other form now would it?" He rolled his eyes and regarded his animus with an amused expression. "Now, how about you try to get out of here one more time?"

Reno shrugged and got to his feet, padding over to the door and drawing out his lock picking kit once more. He paused and put his ear to the wood for a moment, listening for any sounds outside that might alert him to the presence of a guard. He stiffened when he realized he could hear the sound of heavily booted footsteps that were heading his way.

"Hide!" he hissed before diving to the floor and pretending as if he were still unconscious. Already a plan was forming in his mind. It was a simple tactic really… pretend to still be helpless and strike when the moment was right. Heh.

Asclepius tee-hee'd but did not move. "They can't see me anyways," muttered the demi-god by way of explanation as he sat down next to Reno and patted the scarlet-hair. "So soft…"

Reno stifled a groan of annoyance and forced his body to go limp. Moments later, the doorknob moved and the sound of keys being jingled. He cracked his eyes open just barely as the lock opened with a click and the door opened.

He saw black boots and black leather for two pairs of feet at first but didn't dare move his head to investigate further. He could still feel Asclepius' presence and knew that the demi-god hadn't lied when he said others couldn't see him. One pair of booted feet stayed near the door as the heavier footsteps clomped in his direction, making dull thudding sounds as it crossed the floor.

"Eh, nii-san? He still hasn't woken up?" questioned the figure from the doorway, the voice decidedly androgynous. Reno couldn't be sure whether it belonged to a male or female but judging from the boots, maybe a very feminine male. "Stupid lazy Turk."

"Hmph," muttered a much deeper voice from just above the Turk. "I wanted to play with him." Reno heard the squeak of leather and knew that his mysterious kidnapper was kneeling down. Through his slitted eyes he could just barely make out the black leather covered thigh of a surprisingly well-built male. If he wasn't so "unconscious" he might have been able to appreciate the view.

The deep-voiced man poked him experimentally, Reno assumed to see if the Turk was awake. Apparently, he was not too bright. The red-haired man did not move. There was another creak of leather as the dumb one turned towards the doorway, allowing Reno a brief glimpse of a weapon in a holster attached to the man's thigh. It appeared to be a gun.

Aquamarine eyes snapped open as a huge grin crossed the red-haired man's face. He bolted upwards and his hand shot out, grabbing for the weapon at the dumb one's waist at the same moment he swung out a leg to push him backwards. Both moves executed perfectly. The leather clad man fell to his ass as Reno's slim fingers wrapped around the shaft of the weapon and pulled it free.

He gasped at the sudden weight on his hand and looked down in surprise at what he held. The weapon was nothing that the Turk was familiar with. "What the hell kind of weapon is this?" he queried aloud, his voice registering his surprise. It was a gun… and a sword?

A fist flew out of nowhere and slammed into the momentarily surprised Turk's face. Reno reeled backwards from the rather hard blow as his head snapped back and the weapon was jerked from his grasp. Spots danced before his eyes and his head swam from the pain. The dumb one was apparently very strong; however, the one near the door hadn't even moved yet.

A pair of arms shot out and grabbed the Turk's shirt, jerking him off his feet until he was face to face with his assailant. Through a dim haze of spotty vision, Reno could just barely make out grayish hair and a sneer.

"Playing dead was we?" questioned the deep-voiced man, shaking his prey.

"Fuck off!" growled Reno, lashing out with his foot despite hanging in the air from the man's fists. Unable to move back in time, the Turk's foot connected with the larger man's knee, and it buckled beneath him at the same moment that Asclepius burst out of nowhere and barreled into the dumb one's side.

"Nii-san!" called out the man from the doorway as he rushed into the room at the same moment that Reno and his captor tumbled to the ground. The Turk tore himself from the man's grasp, kicked him in the stomach, and leapt over his prone body. Asclepius also disentangled himself and took off after his animus. He was now visible to the two enemies, but they didn't seem to care at the moment. After all, their captive was escaping.

Reno wasted no time as he came face to face with the other man. In a blur of movement, he struck out with his fist as Asclepius pulled out another stunning tackle. The slimmer androgynous person tumbled to the ground from the weight of the demi-god. Reno leapt over his prostrate form quickly and dove for the door, landing just outside.

Without thinking and forgetting about the demi-god, he slammed the door shut and locked it. The dumbass had left the key in the lock of the door handle. The Turk breathed a sigh of relief that he was free and allowed himself a moment of elation before he realized that he had inadvertently locked Asclepius inside as well.

"Dammit!" cursed the red-haired man as he struck his head on the door.

"That's really not going to help matters," came a cheerful voice from just behind him.

Reno whirled around only to come face to face with the shorter demi-god, who was smiling brightly. "How in the hell…?"

Asclepius waved a hand of dismissal. "As if I really needed a door."

"What are you?" demanded the Turk, looking into the sea green eyes of the summon/demi-god. "No. Never mind, we'll talk about that later. How the hell do I get out of here?" he questioned, erasing his earlier line of questioning as he looked down one hall and then the other.

To the right was a short distance to another doorway and to the left was a longer hallway that curved off so that he could not see where it led. His first plan of action was to retrieve his weapons and materia before the two men he had locked inside found a way out.

A loud pounding on the door caused him to jump several feet in the air. Perhaps the dumb one was strong enough to break it down. Either way, Reno had to hurry.

Asclepius put a finger to his chin as he appeared to consider the Turk's question. "I think your rod and stuff is down the hall to the righ, but I think it's being guarded as well."

Reno sighed and pinched his nose. "Can't you do something, oh walker-through-walls?" Another pounding of the door startled him and he glanced at the door. He was running out of time.

The green-haired child-like demi-god nodded. "I've some magic, you know. I am a demi-god. Hmm, what would be best?"

Aquamarine eyes rolled in exasperation. "Whatever. Let's go, yo." He jerked a thumb towards the right hall and the two started down it quickly.

Once at the lone door that really was not that far from the room he had been contained within, Reno pressed his ear to the door. From inside, he couldn't hear anything except a dull rasping sound. He didn't recognize it. Shrugging, the Turk placed his hand on the knob and turned it ever so slowly, pleased to find it was unlocked.

He glanced back at Asclepius and saw that the scarlet-eyed teen was ready. Taking a deep breath, Reno turned the knob and threw the door open, planning on taking the person inside by surprise.

Within, a young boy also dressed in black leather didn't even bother to look up as he sat hunched over a sword, sharpening it with a special stone. "Nii-san, your theatrics are at best annoying."

Reno scanned the room quickly, spotting his armlet and rod sitting on a table on the other side of the rather homey looking room with its couches, chairs, T.V., and small refrigerator.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not your nii-san," intoned the Turk as he leapt at the boy dressed in black leather, lacing his fingers together and forming a thick fist with both hands. He brought this fist crashing down on the back of the boy's head even as he was looked upon with wide eyes, effectively and easily knocking him unconscious. The leather clad boy tumbled out of his chair as his sword clattered to the table top.

"Looks like I didn't need your magic after all, yo," Reno remarked as he swiftly crossed the floor to reclaim his weapon. He felt immeasurably better as he clipped the band back around his wrist and returned the familiar Electro Rod to his hand.

"Darn," whined the demi-god. "I was really looking forward to trying that Repel technique, too. Take away all my fun!" Asclepius pouted and looked down at the unconscious leather-clad boy, frowning.

A series of bangs echoed in the hallway, and Reno's eyes snapped to the open door. There was a small crack and the Turk realized that the dumb one apparently was strong enough to break open the door.

"Let's get out of here," the Turk ordered, taking off towards the door, Asclepius following along after him. They passed by the unconscious younger man and ran past the door where it was just cracking and gloved hands were poking through trying to unlock the door.

Reno ran down the only available hallway, wondering how he was going to get out when a sudden dull roar invaded his senses and the sound of an explosion filled the air. The very building around him shuddered violently, throwing him against a wall as he lost his balance. The Turk gripped onto the stone wall for support as he waited for the ground to stop shaking around him. Asclepius had drawn to a halt beside him, seemingly unaffected by the shudders and panting slightly.

"What the hell?" questioned the Turk, eyes darting all around him as his ear strained to hear.

The demi-god's eyes widened in surprise, becoming large pools of scarlet. He frowned as he looked back and forth as if conversing mentally rather than aloud. "It's Daunte… Balaam's finally made his move."

Reno frowned at the younger-looking man. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded.

But Asclepius was given no time to respond as another explosion rocked the building and the sound of a door slamming open, coming from the hall to their left, echoed through the hall.

"You idiots! Where the hell are you? What the fuck's going on?" screamed an enraged voice obviously female as she stormed down the hallway to where Reno was struggling to keep his feet. Aquamarine eyes widened. He recognized that voice. It was Tifa.

The violent rumbling ceased, and Reno found he was finally able to stand on his feet without clutching the wall, albeit a bit shakily. He took a step forward towards the left when Tifa suddenly skidded around the corner, long brown hair flying around her face.

Her reddish-brown eyes widened as her mouth opened in a tiny 'o' of surprise. "You! What are you doing loose?" she demanded, face flushing with anger.

Reno flashed her one of his characteristic grins as he stood, cockily bouncing his Electro Rod against his shoulder. "I decided I didn't want your company anymore," he drawled, eyes flashing.

There was a faint explosive sound and the walls rattled a little but not enough to throw Reno from his feet. Tifa's eyes looked worriedly towards the ceiling before returning her attentions to Reno and glaring.

"What have you done with the brothers?" she questioned, putting her hands on her hips.

Reno shrugged. "A little of this, a little of that." He narrowed his eyes at the dark-headed girl and glared. "Now get out my way, bitch!"

Suddenly, a very loud bang and crash came from the hall behind Reno, accompanied by loud cursing and the subtle squeaking of leather. The two men Reno had locked away had apparently broken free.

"I think it's time to go," commented Asclepius.

The red-haired Turk nodded. "Agreed."

Without missing a beat, he took a step forward. Tifa's eyes widened in anger and she tightened the strap of her metal-covered gloves. "Try it and see what happens," she hissed angrily, her eyes flashing. "You're my ticket back into ShinRa!"

Reno smirked and pressed the button for his Electro Rod, igniting the electric current that imbibed the metal. "Show me what you got," he taunted, moving forward.

Tifa growled angrily and took a flying leap at the Turk. The aquamarine-eyed man prepared to face her down when suddenly Asclepius darted in front of him, arms outstretched.

"Repel!" shouted the demi-god. Almost immediately, the air in front of the two shimmered and a translucent wall appeared. Tifa crashed into it hard with an oof! and promptly flew backwards, back and head striking the wall. The back of her skull cracked as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she slipped into an unconscious state, body slumping to the floor.

"Yeah!" cheered Reno in astonishment. "That was fucking awesome!"

Asclepius smiled cheekily. "Wasn't it though?"

The sound of booted feet heading their way alerted the two that they still weren't free and after exchanging glances, the two darted down the hall, passing by Tifa's prone figure. Just as they rounded the corner and came across another door, shouted exclamations could be heard behind them.

"Boss!" Apparently the two men had found Tifa.

Reno and Asclepius ignored the sounds of their enemies behind them and burst through the doors at the end of the hall. They emerged into another brightly lit hall, this one literally littered with doors and surprise, a ladder that led upwards.

The two exchanged glances before deciding on the ladder.

The Turk went first despite the demi-god's protestations, and climbed to the top of the rather short metal-runged ladder, pushing on the latch at the top. Metal hinges squeaked as he lifted the lid and poked his head out carefully. He couldn't see anything but flat grassy plains. From below, Asclepius shifted nervously.

"It's safe. I don't sense any immediate monsters," called out the demi-god.

Nodding, Reno pushed open the hatch all of the way and climbed out, surprised to find himself in the middle of the plains rather than in some town or city. He stood just outside the hatch and waited for Asclepius to emerge behind him before slamming the lid back down.

The Turk frowned in confusion and started tapping his Electro Rod on his shoulder as he slowly turned around to survey his surroundings. What he saw made him gasp and go pale.

Directly behind him stood a town he knew to be Wutai. The Turks had taken many a vacation there, and he knew the place well. However, he didn't remember it being a place of flame and light. Wutai was being attacked. An explosion rocked the air, the sonic blast nearly throwing him off of his feet as orange flame danced high in the sky.

"What in the hell?" demanded the Turk as he gaped. "Who…?" he trailed off. There shouldn't have been anyone else to fight. Who would attack?

Asclepius stood beside him and frowned, body shaking with thinly restrained anger. "It is Daunte. He is destroying Wutai." He clenched his fist in anger as his scarlet eyes flashed. "I'm going to fight him."

The fire reflected in a pair of aquamarine eyes as Reno beheld the spectacle, fury beginning to flood through his veins. "As am I…" he growled, hand tightening in its hold on his weapon. "I don't know who this Daunte is, but he is destroying my favorite vacation spot!"

Asclepius nodded once and closed his eyes. The air around him shimmered and the young man disappeared only to reappear in his larger form. He knelt down on the ground and allowed his animus to climb onto his neck.

"I promise," explained the demi-god. "Afterwards, I will explain everything."

Reno nodded. "You had better."

With that said, Asclepius bounded off towards Wutai and the figure hanging in the sky shooting fire down on the helpless village.

----

"Sir! They've got us completely surrounded! We can't break free!" exclaimed Gorki, quickly casting another Fire2 even as he lashed at the monster that was attacking him.

Grimly, Godo blinked in understanding as he pummeled at the strange, demon-like creature that had thrust itself in his direction. All around them the smell of ash and death, blood and tears was strong. Within his heart, the lord of Wutai ached as there was very little he could do to protect his home. They still had very little materia and no summons to speak of. The Wutaiians were completely on their own against this menace.

The flood of creatures from the sky seemed never ceasing as their leader, a demonic, humanoid with a steel mask and bloodied bat-like wings, hovered over Wutai, cackling madly and sending bursts of fire down everywhere along with clouds of poisonous gas.

When the monsters had first struck, most civilians – the elderly, the children, and those that could not fight – had fled for the caves in Dao-Chao Mountain. Since Yuffie and her friends had come through with the Leviathan scales, the caves were perfect for storehouses and served as an escape and protection mechanism for the people of Wutai.

The Wutaiian army tried to defeat the monsters but found their pitiful numbers were easily pushed back. Thanks to the war with ShinRa so many years ago, they hadn't been able to build anything back to decent proportions and were therefore vulnerable. As a result, they were now fighting on two fronts. Godo, Gorki, and a small contingent were holding down and protecting what was left of the pagoda and temple. Staniv, Chekhov, and a larger division were defending the escape route and Dao-Chao Mountains from the greater body of monsters. The ninja's were also fighting alongside Staniv and Chekhov. Unfortunately, the entire city between the two fronts had already been destroyed.

Homes were left burning with no one to put them out. The famous Turtles Paradise Bar was nothing more than a thick bundle of oily grey smoke… the once beautiful and crystalline blue river was polluted with ash and blood. Most of the wooden bridges had collapsed, the pieces slogging along with the clogged waters that they had fallen into. It was a sight that tore apart the heart of Lord Godo. He was only glad that Yuffie was not there to see her home destroyed.

"Sir! Look out!"

Before Godo could react, a weight slammed into him from the side and knocked him to the ground just as a jet of poisonous caustic acid flew over their heads. The two men hit hard, breath momentarily knocked from their bodies.

"Thanks," huffed Godo, head spinning and back aching.

Gorki smiled, "Anytime," moments before a dark shadow fell on them and a large spindly grasshopper-creature stood over them, mouth clacking audibly. Razor sharp claws graced each of its six appendages and its body was made of purplish-orange hard shell. The tips of its claws were already stained with blood.

Gorki flung out a hand to cast Fire2 once more but found that he had run out of the strength needed to do so. His mind was just too tired to concentrate on the materia. That was the last moment they had for defense before the creature struck. Godo couldn't get to his weapon in time as it was buried beneath he and Gorki. The two men prepared for the inevitable.

The Lord of Wutai's eyes closed of their own accord and he expected at any moment, to feel sharp claws ripping through all of his vital organs.

The hair rose on the back of his neck and he heard a garbled cry of pain. Dark eyes snapped open and he looked up in surprise to see a scarlet-haired man standing there, striking the monster with an Electro Rod and sending sparks of electricity through the purplish-orange abnormal grasshopper. The creature reeled backwards, even as the man tossed a hand out to the left, throwing a Bolt3 at an approaching monster, this one a piggish two-legged abomination.

"Asclepius! Shield!" called out the red-haired man even as he darted away, leaving behind two very stunned Wutaiians. The monsters around them had been quickly defeated, easily put down by the man's quick technique and magic throwing.

"Hai!" came a bubbly voice from an unknown source. A brilliant light flashed in the sky that of shining green and crimson. The air around the temple and pagoda shimmered iridescently before a translucent shield appeared, effectively keeping Godo and Gorki safe inside. The monsters that stormed up threw themselves at the shield, but only bounced off and away, a small ripple of light appearing where the shield had been touched.

"What?" questioned Godo gaping. "Who… What was hell was that?"

Gorki laughed, a strange sound given the situation. "Excuse me, Lord Godo, but 'that' it seems is going to be our savior, mysterious though it may be." The lesser Lord looked out past the shield and caught a glimpse of what had cast the shield, his historian mind instantly recognizing the being.

It was Carbuncle, once called Asclepius, famed demi-god of protection and magic. But why the summon was in Wutai was a mystery to the Wutaiian. And who was the red-haired man that had referred to Carbuncle by his old name? He seemed somewhat familiar…

"Wutai may yet be saved after all." Godo sighed finally pushing himself up off the ground. They were safe behind the shield, so it was time to tend to the injured. He stuck out a hand and helped Gorki to his feet as well before turning a concerned eye towards what was left of his home and city.

The Lord of Wutai offered up a prayer to the gods that they would live through the day before turning and heading towards the temple, Gorki by his side.

----

Whew! So much war! What's to come next I wonder? And will the people of Gaia ever have peace?

Leave a review if you would please, yo? Heh, heh.


	17. Mysterious Savior

Thanks to my reviewers! Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls! All your reviews are great!

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Speak'

**Chapter 17: Mysterious Savior**

He stood on the very front end of the boat, staring at the approaching coast of the Midgarian continent. The old fisherman, who had volunteered to ferry him across the narrow stretch of water between the shores of Bone Village and those directly across the way, had been a difficult businessman. More than half of Seraph's money had gone to the scruffy older man so that he and Masa could make it to the other side safely. There were others that offered, but none of them had a large enough boat to house the chocobo as well, and Seraph knew he would need her for transport.

He still hadn't shaken the uneasy feeling that followed him wherever he went. He knew that something was about to happen, and Gilgamesh kept stirring restlessly in his head. His anima wouldn't explain why, but his actions were enough for Seraph. Frowning slightly, the moss greenish-grey eyed man sighed into the salty sea air that whipped around his body and threw his hair back from his face… his black hair that he still had trouble recognizing as his own. Yet, he had to keep up the ruse… he was getting closer to territory where people might recognize him. Especially in Midgar…

(You still have not figured out a story, yet?) Gilgamesh questioned. He had been quiet for awhile, so it came as little surprise to Seraph when he started to speak once more. (I mean, ShinRa Headquarters was destroyed after they defeated you. What makes you believe they are going to allow you to wander on their property, poking around?)

Wary of the fisherman smoking a pipe and idly steering the vessel, Seraph maintained his conversation with his anima in his mind, lest he be though of as insane once more. 'I had considered a few options, but nothing that would help explain a three-month absence. I need a sound reason to desire to look through the ruins of a mad man's laboratory.'

Gilgamesh sighed and settled down, as if to ponder that statement. Seraph returned his attentions to the shore. It wouldn't be long before they landed, and he wanted Masa saddled and ready by then, so he turned away from the view and headed into the other portion of the ship where his black chocobo had been stabled.

He had considered a story of searching for a lost loved one, who should have been stationed in Midgar but didn't know if it would be viable for three months. He had also entertained notions of coming as near to the truth as he could without revealing his true nature, such as saying he was a former experiment of Hojo's. However, that idea was not without its risks. They might consider him a threat if he told such a story. His new name was on no ShinRa registry, so he couldn't claim to be a soldier, a Turk, or anything simple like that. Nor did he have any friends left in the world that would cover for him. Currently, he was still stumped but minutely hopeful that something would come up at just the right time.

"We'll be making landing in about five minutes, Mr. Noire," growled out the fishermen in a wizened voice as he tipped his head at the darker-haired man. Seraph merely nodded in response and passed by the grizzled, older man.

Masa was warbling happily on the aft portion of the deck, black feathers ruffling in the wind. It seemed she was enjoying the few hour journey across the sea, or maybe she was just glad to see something beyond the Icy continent. Either way, Seraph was glad that it hadn't been any trouble to get the chocobo on the vessel.

He strode up to her and ran a gentle hand through her crest of feathers, an action to which she cooed happily and nuzzled the leather covered limb. He smiled softly and made to saddle her up so that they could disembark immediately once the boat arrived. She stood completely still as he did so. Masa was very well-trained.

(I still believe that you should talk to him,) Gilgamesh allowed slowly, already tired of not making comments. He disliked silence between he and his animus very much and was quite restless at times, though at others he show incredible patience and focus.

Seraph frowned and paused in his movements as he considered the very many that his anima could be speaking of. Green eyes wandered over every cresting wave for a moment before deciding that for any one of them, the answer would still be a very emphatic "no".

'I do not know of whom you are speaking. However, the answer is still no.' He clinched his hand into a fist. 'What if someone were to recognize me? I am not certain I could deal with kind of hatred just yet. What if I am killed before I accomplish my task… whatever the hell it is I am supposed to do?' He forcefully unfisted his hand.

(And what if you are supposed to fix things, make amends to everyone you have wronged? You cannot do that if they do not know who you are! Besides, you know quite well who I am talking about! I spend most of my days up in your mind, you know. I can see your thoughts!) The demi-god huffed softly, only somewhat annoyed.

Seraph cinched another leather strap around the chocobo and patted her comfortingly on the head. 'He would recognize me in a moment. I cannot take that chance. If anything… I do not want to see that look on his face.'

Gilgamesh snorted, muttering almost inaudibly, (Coward.)

The former general winced but didn't reply as he slowly began to untie Masa from the deck. The land and subsequent landing dock loomed close enough that within a minute or so, the good ship "Roaming Rachel" landed.

It was only a small dock set up on the beaches of the Midgarian Continent. Just large enough for transport and trade vessels between the Icy Continent and Kalm and Midgar. The grizzled Captain of the "Roaming Rachel" lowered the plank and tipped his almost comical hat to Seraph as the dark-haired man led his chocobo off of the ship.

The moment he set foot on the familiar continent, another shiver of apprehension ran up and down his spine and his eyes automatically turned to the heavens. The skies were darkening, as if with the coming of an approaching thunderstorm, and he almost felt as if he were being watched. However, there were no other boats at the dock.

"Pleasure doing business with ya," the old fisherman called out.

Seraph tipped his head at him. "I appreciate the transport, Captain. Thank you," the dark-haired man responded. He climbed up on Masa's back and urged her forward, leaving the dock and the boat behind. Ahead of him on the horizon, he could just barely make out the dim lights of the tiny burg of Kalm against the night sky. He glanced over to the right and noticed the darkness that covered the land where Midgar lay. He wasn't sure why it seemed the sky always was more foreboding over the ShinRa built town, but it had been that way for as long as he remembered.

He made as if to head straight towards the dark city, but something held him back. Frowning, Seraph turned his attentions back towards the small unobtrusive town of Kalm. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but the feeling of trepidation remained, as it had when he was in Icicle.

He decided to once more go with his instincts and spurred Masa on towards the town. The black chocobo warbled happily and moved her feet. He judged the distance with a careful eye and knew if he pushed Masa hard enough, he would be there within the hour. With his decision made, he prepared for the rather short journey and tried to understand the strange forebodings currently thrumming through his body and the icy chills shooting down his spine.

He had never been a true psychic, had never been one to feel more than a slight tingle when danger was near. It was only his superb reflexes and training that always made it seem as if he felt more. He had only begun to receive the foreboding feelings after he had awoken half-drowned on the shores south of Icicle. Even then it had always felt as if he were being watched or that there was something just beyond the edge of his sight that he needed to be wary of. However, that was also when Gilgamesh had started to converse with him, and he had learned of his anima.

Seraph still didn't know his purpose for living once more. It wasn't as if the world needed his deranged self to be alive. Gaia had strong enough warriors as it was. They destroyed him, didn't they? What was so special about him that he had been given a chance to redeem himself? Why had he been given such a gift that he didn't deserve?

Even after three months, the meaning to those questions still eluded him. And it wasn't as if the Planet was speaking to him as it had in the Lifestream. Those memories, of course, were very vague. The five years he spent floating and surrounded by voices along with the time spent trying to destroy Gaia with Meteor were somewhat hazy. Most of the time his conscious was overrun with that vile alien bitch, Jenova.

Not that he didn't know everything that had occurred, but other things were left in the shadows. He remembered being spoken to in the Lifestream after his defeat, but he couldn't recall the words. He didn't remember his return to the surface at all. One moment he was struggling to pull his scattered thoughts and dreams together, the next he was gasping for air and vomiting water from his lungs on the shore of the very chilly Ice Continent.

Suddenly, the air beside Seraph shimmered and started to coalesce, easily keeping up with his pace although Masa was going her full speed of nearly 110 kph. However, he was not concerned as he had come to recognize Gilgamesh's sudden appearances and disappearances as common place.

The anima was heavily cloaked in fabric that was draped over and around his head and upper body revealing only his eye, a part of his nose, and some of the intricate scarlet tattooing on the face. He fingered his blades, of which he always carried at least four. Only two of those Sephiroth knew and had actually seen: Masamune, much like his own, and Zantetsuken, a curved blade of blue. Gilgamesh was a tall demi-god with grayish-silver skin, a set of wickedly curved horns, and various armor attachments such as leg guards and a rather interesting helm.

"You are still repeating the same questions repetitively to yourself. Do you realize how decidedly annoying that is?" the demi-god queried as he glared from beneath the red fabric.

"No one asked you to listen," Seraph retorted.

Gilgamesh sighed and shook his head in disgust at his animus. "Are you going to spend the rest of your life, the great gift that you have been given, brooding over every insignificant thing?"

The former general ignored the question. "Why did you materialize?"

The demi-god shrugged off-handedly. "I was bored."

"There's nothing out here but grass, what do you expect?" Seraph scoffed.

Gilgamesh opened his mouth to comment when, as if on cue, a group of prairie monsters appeared and surrounded them. Seraph pulled on Masa's reins, and the black chocobo came to a halt. His eyes darted all around as he quickly counted the monsters. Seven… at the least… seven porcine machine-like creatures with slavering, dripping jaws of steel.

Hmph… piece of cake.

Seraph mentally reviewed his materia as he carefully but swiftly jumped down from Masa's back, calmly petting the chocobo to reassure her. Gilgamesh smirked at his side and pulled out two of his swords, the Zantetsuken and another that Seraph did not recognize.

"Seven for me, and none for you?" the demi-god questioned, with a tilt of his head.

Seraph frowned and folded his arms over his chest as the porcine monsters growled and began to inch forward. "That is no fun for me. I am bored, too, you know."

"Fine, fine," Gilgamesh conceded, a smirk in his voice. "Four-three?"

A Pork Jaw launched itself at Seraph before he had a chance to respond. The ex-SOLDIER spun to face the creature, hand flying hand in a casting motion. Gouts of Fire burst from him and engulfed the monster. The smell of roasting boar filled the air as it squealed and dropped to the ground, writhing in agony. Seraph kicked the beast away from the startled chocobo and shot a look at Gilgamesh.

"Three-Three."

The demi-god shrugged elegantly and inclined his head. "Fair enough." With that said, he twirled the swords once in each hand and darted forward so quick that he wasn't even a blur, swords flashing as the blades found their homes in the bodies of the semi-dangerous creatures.

Seraph waved his hand again and poison gurgled up from the ground, swallowing up the porcine creatures and causing them to writhe in pain. They squealed and hissed, rolling around against the soil, trying to drive off the acidic poison. One Pork Jaw found bravery deep within its innards and launched itself at Seraph, still dripping in the foul purplish-green poison.

The dark-haired man darted forward and kicked out with one heavily booted foot, knowing that the leather will protect him from the acid. He caught the Pork Jaw in the chest, and it yelped as the sound of ribs cracking filled the air. The monster fell to the ground with a squelch as its body slowly melted.

"Seraph!" Gilgamesh called out. He looked up quickly… just in time to catch the rather small sword that had been tossed at him. He was used to something far longer, but it would do. In just as smooth a motion, he had plucked the blade from the air; Seraph whirled around and lopped off the heads of the three creatures, which were squealing in front of him.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust as the smell invaded his heightened senses, and he took several steps back unconsciously, grabbing onto Masa's reins and moving her from the battle. Gilgamesh was also standing over his victory, silently laughing at the fate of the three Pork Jaws that lay in various bits and pieces over the grass area.

Seraph shook his head and wiped the sword in the grass as he led his chocobo towards Kalm and away from the carnage. It had been in awhile since he had killed like that. Although they were monsters, senseless slaughter still did not sit well with him. It reminded him too much of what he had done. He sighed as his eyes scanned the horizon. Kalm was probably just over the next rise, perhaps a ten minute ride away.

"Well, that was rather short," snorted Gilgamesh indelicately as he sidled up beside the former general. Seraph didn't respond, only handed the sword back to the demi-god, properly of course, hilt first. "I am still bored."

Seraph opened his mouth to reply when a sudden chill of terror raced up and down his spine. He froze, searching all around for the source of foreboding. It felt as if clawed hands had started to scratch around on his back. It was very disconcerting. Gilgamesh also stopped his pointless muttering, as if he had felt it also.

"What is that?" the ex-SOLDIER asked.

Gilgamesh shook his head, as if he didn't know before he stiffened. "Above you."

Two heads turned towards the sky. With it being dark, Seraph at first couldn't discern much until he noticed the blotting out of the stars. Then he heard the sounds: cackling, growling, hissing, as if a battle was taking place above him. He heard the distinct sound of wings flapping and then the overpowering stench of death and blood struck him. He fought down the urge to gag as he watched the large and small shapes move over him towards the north east.

"War…" the dark-haired man murmured. It was his best guess. From all facts, it seemed a horde of monsters were flying over him, away from Midgar and towards the nothing that was the sea.

"He is moving faster than we originally anticipated," Gilgamesh whispered to himself before turning his attentions onto Seraph. "We left Icicle at the appropriate time it seems."

Suddenly, mossy, grey eyes widened, and Seraph hurriedly vaulted onto Masa. The chocobo kweh'ed in surprise and shifted restlessly beneath him. He scooped up the reins and urged her forward, maximum speed towards Kalm. Gilgamesh frowned in confusion before he glanced once more towards the heavens, almost gasping in shock as well.

Three of the larger shapes had detached themselves from the main group and were flying straight towards the innocuous and defenseless town of Kalm. Everyone there would be slaughtered… if the blood on the air was any indication of what had occurred in Midgar. Gilgamesh quickly sheathed his blades; it wasn't exactly intelligent to run with one in each hand, even if he was demi-god and they couldn't harm him seriously. Without pause, he took off after Seraph, easily catching up to the chocobo.

The wind picked up around them, carrying the scent of burning and death along with the heavy coppery tang of blood. The wind was blowing from Midgar, and Seraph couldn't help the internal wince. At least his foreboding feeling had been explained. Somehow he knew that this battle was coming… somehow his senses had understood about the tidings of war.

"What are you doing?" Gilgamesh asked, nearly shouting over the wind of their movement.

Seraph frowned and glared at the demi-god. "What do you think? They will be slaughtered." He urged Masa to move faster, even though he knew they were still a fair enough distance away that he might be too late.

Suddenly, a crimson-cloaked arm shot out and grabbed onto Seraph. He looked at Gilgamesh with wide eyes as the grip tightened. "What are you-?"

The demi-god shook his head. "You will never make it in time! Migro!"

Before the former general had a chance to respond, he felt as if he were pulled in a million different directions at once. Ice and fire licked across his skin, and the world went dark and before it exploded in a blaze of light. Masa squawked beneath him, but he couldn't even find the strength in him to calm the restless chocobo.

In an instant, man, demi-god, and chocobo disappeared from the empty grassy plains separating Kalm from the ocean.

----

Johnny sighed as he turned the key in the lock and closed up shop for the night. Another slow day in a small town as usual, but he liked things that way. He was tired of the hustle and bustle of big towns and was more than happy to abide his wife's wish by moving to the much smaller Kalm. The small, silver key clicked satisfactorily, and the redheaded man put the metallic object into his pocket before reaching out for the handle for a test shake. Not that crime was really a problem in the sleepy town, but one could never be too careful.

Satisfied that his Item Shop was indeed well fortified from the night, Johnny turned from the door and headed home, towards the outskirts of Kalm. It was quiet there, peaceful and serene. Nothing ever happened in the little town. It had lasted through every war, including the one with Wutai and even the current fall of the ShinRa empire. Everyone seemed to get along, and danger was a null and distant shadow.

Johnny smiled and took a deep breath of the fresh night air as he turned his eyes to the sky. He rather enjoyed looking at the stars sometimes. It reminded him of the days when he used to dream of other worlds beyond those tiny pinpoints of light. Heh, he had lots of dreams as a child. He never would have expected his life to turn out the way it had; nonetheless, he was happy.

He took in the familiar forms of the constellations Leviathan and the famous Muramasa. They were some of his earliest friends… Johnny unexpectedly frowned. The sky was clear, but it seemed as if a dark shadow just passed in front of the stars, blocking his view. A wind kicked up around him, throwing dust and old newspapers up into the air. A loud and resounding roar echoed throughout the night, and the redheaded man found himself frozen in place.

He was a well-traveled man and would know the sound of a monster's cry if he heard one. And that had definitely been the growl of something large and hungry. Wind ruffled his cloak around him, and he struggled to keep his hat on his head as a large shape, barely visible above the town, its underbelly revealed by the street lamps flew directly over him and towards the inner area of Kalm. He followed the progress of the dragon with his eyes, turning his body to watch it. He registered wings, talons, and a tail.

Dragon… his mind hissed at him. Another roar from behind at the same moment that the ground shook, nearly dropping him from his feet. Johnny turned and found to his dismay, a green dragon was blocking the entire street, separating him from his home and his wife. Its huge nostrils sniffed the air hungrily before the serpentine tail whipped out, destroying a lamp post as it did so. That side of the street went completely dark, and the redheaded man felt fear grip his heart. He took an involuntary step backwards, searching for an escape as reptilian yellow eyes locked on him.

The dragon gnashed its teeth, spittle flecking between the canines as its serpentine head snaked forward in a blinding speed, determined to make Johnny his next lunch. The red-haired man could do nothing but accept his fate. Blue eyes closed in resignation, and he winced, expecting at any moment to feel hot, fetid dragon breath enclosing about his head.

Instead, he heard the ringing of steel on scales, and a man's grunt along with the sound of feet sliding across the cobblestones of Kalm. Johnny cracked open one careful eye, and his jaw dropped.

A man, dressed nearly in all black and wielding a long sword had blocked the enormous jaws of the beast and was pushing it back, with just one hand. He waved the other in a gesture of casting at the creature. Johnny watched as acidic green-purple poison shot out and coated the long neck of the green dragon. It hissed and spit as the dragon roared in pain, trying to chomp at the redheaded man's defender.

"Get out of here!" the man ordered, turning to glare at Johnny with smoky, green eyes.

The red-haired shop-owner nodded and darted down an alleyway, all paralysis gone from his body.

Seraph cursed and punched at the dragon's sensitive snout, causing it to reel back in misery. A spiked tail rushed at him from the side, but the dark-haired man easily avoided the appendage, jumping over the sweeping tail and darting in, borrowed sword aiming for the dragon's soft underbelly.

Gilgamesh had transported Masa and him here using one of his spells. He had also loaned Seraph one of his four swords, the one he called Masamune. It was heavier than the one he was used to do but worked well for his purposes. Gilgamesh had gone after the other two dragons himself. Seraph was more than glad to let him handle it as all he had were measly Fire and Poison materia. Not to mention the fact that these dragons were far larger and stronger than any he had encountered before, including the mutant ones that ran rampant through the Nibel Mountains.

His blade skittered across the dragon's scales due to his misaim when it swiped at him, causing him to side-step and slightly stumbled over a loose cobble stone. This irritated the green dragon, who reached for him with blood-stained talons and breathed foul death-breath on him. Seraph batted away the offensive appendage at the same moment he threw a gout of fire at the approaching snout. The monster received a big whiff of flamed air and reared back in pain, the inside of its nostrils literally burning.

The dark-haired man took the opportunity to aim for the revealed open and sensitive throat with his sword. He crouched down to the ground before using his legs to propel himself upwards, impossibly long sword aiming for the exposed throat. He clenched his teeth and growled his anger as the blade finally pierced the dragon's under throat, splashing purplish-crimson blood on him, and sunk deeply in the tough flesh. Thankfully, his sword actually managed to pierce the dragon-hide, which seemed to have been hardened by some form of new magic.

The monster gurgled and thrashed as it crashed to the ground, trying to dislodge the former general from its neck, while blood soaked the cobblestones beneath them. Seraph held onto the blade with all his might, gritting his teeth as he dug the Masamune-clone deeper into the creature's throat, casting another Poison as he did so to further irritate the wound.

A sign was knocked down by an errant thrashing limb, as well as a few windows shattering from the flailing tail. Seraph only hoped that all bystanders had the sense to stay clear out of danger. The dragon gurgled again, drawing in a pained and blood-filled breath as its struggling slowly ceased, claws and talons unclenching. It could no longer breathe, choking on its own life's fluid as Seraph held on.

Finally, the dragon stilled completely, limbs crashing to the ground as it released its final breath in an enormous gout of bloody, bubbled air. Seraph breathed a sigh of relief and slowly withdrew the blade, stepping off of the body as he did so. He stumbled a bit, one of his legs not wanting to quite support his weight. It seemed he hadn't been as quick as he had thought. One of the spines from the dragon's tail had caught him in the side of his upper right thigh.

Seraph moved a few steps away from the dragon before turning back to look at it, watching as it slowly disintegrated before his eyes as all monsters and creatures without souls did. That was the very definition of a monster, those creations with faulty DNA that no longer held together with death. Scientists had discovered that not long before Hojo started experimenting with mako. Seraph wasn't entirely sure of the scientific explanation. All he knew was that a monster was nothing but dust after it died … nothing to rejoin the life stream. Not like a human or animal… nothing at all. What a terrible existence.

And yet, although the monster disintegrated… its blood remained, forever staining the cobblestones beneath a crimson color.

Seraph turned from the disconcerting scene and moved his attentions to the wound on his thigh. It burned intensely, as if one of the spikes had tore at the muscle; slowly, the scarlet-fluid was trickling down his leg. Dammit! He had left all his potions and such in the bag attached to Masa's saddle. He would have to trek back to wherever he left the blasted bird to heal the wound. The dark-haired man sighed and started to limp in the general direction from whence he came, idly wondering if that red-haired man managed to get somewhere safe.

He decided that would be his penance. Protecting those weaker than him, giving his life if necessary for someone other than himself and using his strength for good rather than needless slaughter and destruction. Perhaps then he could move on with some measure of peace and find happiness within his own body. Maybe… he would actually find it within him to try to live…

The roar of one of the other two attacking dragons caught his attention, and he immediately stood up straight. The noise had come from behind him. Without thinking, Seraph turned and sprinted back into the center of Kalm, paying no mind to the burning pain in his thigh or the blood dripping onto the ground from his wound. He knew that Gilgamesh could handle the two green dragons but didn't know if there were possible civilians in the way.

He raced up the streets, booted feet surprisingly not clomping noisily on the stones. He ignored the startled looks of the people peering from their windows and doors, though occasionally he did yell for them to stay inside and that monsters were on the loose. He was quickly obeyed. After all, he was dripping blood and carrying a huge sword… who would be stupid enough not to listen?

Another roar sounded from very close by, and Seraph ducked into a side street, quickly emerging on the other end of the alley just in time to see Gilgamesh coming down from a roof and lopping the head off of one of the dragons with a loud battle cry. Blood sprayed everywhere as the Zantetsuken sliced easily through the thick, sinewy neck, effectively decapitating the monstrous beast.

The demi-god landed elegantly to the ground, doing some elaborate dance with his sword as he shook his head with glee over the thrill of battle. He rather enjoyed the adrenaline rush associated with fighting, though he did not enjoy the actual killing.

Seraph shook his head at Gilgamesh's antics and heaved a sigh of relief. There was no sign of the second dragon, but if the pile of drying blood off to the far right was any indication, it had already been disposed of. The demi-god turned from the rapidly dissolving body of the monster and spied his anima standing there, favoring one of his legs.

"Did the dragon give you some trouble?" Gilgamesh questioned with a taunting grin.

"Oh, shut up!" Seraph snapped. He tossed the Masamune-clone to the demi-god without regards to where the blade twisted and turned and watched as the red-cloaked figure easily plucked the sword from mid-air by the hilt and inspected it.

He raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired man. "I half expected to get it back in less than perfect condition; yet, it seems you do know how to handle a sword."

Seraph waved off the demi-god's taunt and tossed his head, turning back towards where he thought he had last left Masa. A potion or two was sounding really good to him currently, especially with the burning and shooting pain that was racing up and down his thigh.

Gilgamesh frowned as he idly took out a piece of cloth and wiped down the sword that Seraph had tossed to him. "Where are you going?"

The dark-haired man waved a hand in the general direction of the outskirts of town. "To find Masa, I need a potion or two."

The demi-god laughed. "You are going the wrong way."

"Figures," Seraph muttered, stopping for a moment to inspect the damage to his thigh. The blood had clotted somewhat, and his pants were now sticking to the wound, pulling at his skin with every movement. "This is what I get for helping people."

Gilgamesh shook his head. "What happened to, 'Oh, woe is me, I tried to take over the world! I must atone for my sinful deeds, etc, etc, etc'?" the demi-god skillfully imitated, sounding exactly like the former SOLDIER. Seraph shot him a deadly look, glaring intently as his hand carefully plucked the fabric of his pants away from the wound on his leg.

"Fine, I shall be helpful," conceded the crimson-cloaked demi-god. He put a finger to his mouth and whistled loudly, the shrill sound echoing through the night air. Seraph winced and his eyes flickered around, expecting the residents of Kalm to stick their heads out to investigate the noise. He saw a few curtains move, but that was all. It seemed the dragons had frightened them into remaining in their homes. He didn't blame them.

The green-eyed man was about to ask the demi-god the purpose of the shrill whistle when Masa bounded into view, joy evident in her black chocobo face. He gaped in astonishment, being as he had never trained her to respond to the call of a whistle before. The chocobo immediately noticed her master and trotted over to his side, nuzzling against the side of his face.

Gilgamesh grinned, quite proud of himself and returned the Zantetsuken to its sheath, eyeing the Masamune-clone in his hands. Seraph ignored him as he spoke softly to the ecstatic chocobo, searching through the bags until he found two of the four potions that he had secreted there earlier in the journey.

He pulled out the small glass vials and popped off the cork. A pleasant smell filled the air, chasing away the odor of death and dragon blood. He carefully poured the liquid over the wound on his leg, enjoying the gentle healing tingle that spread through the appendage as the blood clotted and the muscles and skin began to reknit. Seraph opened the second potion and drank it down, revitalizing the remainder of his body.

The ex-SOLDIER closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing for a moment as he returned the empty bottles to the pouches. A moment later, he heard the sounds of Gilgamesh's footsteps and glanced up to see the demi-god looking down at him from his superior height, despite the fact that Seraph himself was over six feet tall. The demi-god was holding out the Masamune-clone to him, hilt-first.

"Keep it," Gilgamesh explained gently. "Until you find one of your own. Fists are not much when you do not even have a pair of fighting gloves."

Seraph eyed him carefully as he took the sword. "Thank you."

The demi-god shrugged. "Besides, it is far more enjoyable if I do not have to worry about protecting you." Seraph's eyes widened angrily, but Gilgamesh cut him off before he could speak. "Is it not time we headed for Midgar?"

"You… I… protect…" Seraph spluttered, unable to come up with anything more coherent.

The demi-god laughed as he walked away, heading towards the main pathway that would take them out of Kalm. "Humans… so predictable…" he commented.

Seraph glowered angrily and climbed onto Masa's back. She kweh'ed happily and danced beneath him. He patted her head and snapped the reins. She took off, easily bypassing the demi-god.

On to Midgar it was then…

----

Ah, more of the yummy Seraph. Nothing like that to end the day!

---- Reader Response (I know I haven't done this before) ----

Sorceress Fujin: I want the same thing, trust me. But unfortunately we both havea looooong wait. But when we do get there, it's going to be so sweet.

Wolven Falls: The answer to your question is both yes and no. But if I explain, then half my plot will be given away. I will say; however, that some people you haven't met yet also have anima AND that only the strongest, wisest mortals are allowed the gift of being joined with an anima because only they are capable of handing the power and responsibility. That's why it seems only the people we know have them. They are the strongest people on Gaia.


	18. Cry of the Sphinx

**Big thanks to my reviewers! Sorceress Fujin and Wolven Falls! You're the reason I post!**

**Chapter 18: Cry of the Sphinx**

"Oh, my god," breathed Yuffie as she looked out from the front of the Highwind down at the destruction of Cosmo Canyon. Bright orange flame had overtaken much of the city, and thick plumes of greasy black smoke had formed a blanket over the once clean and bright town. Her hand involuntarily went to her mouth as her eyes watered. She should have been used to such a scene, having come from Gongaga, but it was too much too absorb. There should have been peace! After Sephiroth… it was all supposed to be over.

The ninja found her heart going out to all the innocents as she whispered a prayer of safe journey on those that may not have survived the attack. In the back of her mind, words whispered that they should have been there. They could have saved them… but she struggled to fight them down as she wrestled with her own pangs of sadness.

"Grandfather!" exclaimed Nanaki from beside her in angst as his golden eyes widened in despair. He turned half from the window to cast a pleading glance at the pilot. "Hurry, Cid, I have to get down there."

The pilot didn't have the heart to reply gruffly, only nodding before he pushed the Highwind's pilot aside to land the airship himself. The smoke was thick in the air, heavy with ash and soot, clogging up his propellers and such. He didn't trust his pilot to be able to land the Highwind properly in the near zero visibility or to be able to handle the airship when one of the engines to stop working.

However, Cid's heart was hurting at his glimpse of Cosmo Canyon, as well. He had just spoken to the grandfather not but a few hours before. What could have happened in such a short amount of time? Bugenhagen had said that he had found Vincent… had he lost him once more? He couldn't help but think… if only they had left Gongaga sooner… if only he had pushed the Highwind to her limits… perhaps they would have been there in time.

The Highwind circled around once more to find a place to land, and Yuffie had to swallow thickly, her mouth feeling dry and her throat choked. The city didn't look any better from the change of sight. If anything, it seemed more destroyed on the northern side. She was on the verge of tears and was trying her best to blink them back, for Nanaki's sake if no one else's. The demi-human would need his friends right now.

She dared a glance over at him and was pained by the sorrow on his face. His eyes and lips had drawn together tightly, and his fists were clenched at the side, while his brow furrowed in worry. She knew he was concerned for Bugenhagen. Yuffie was, as well.

"Why? What could have done this?" he murmured aloud, eyes locked on the burning buildings. Most of Cosmo Canyon had become empty shells of flaming wreckage. He couldn't see any enemies, but his sharp sight had found the bodies lying on the ground, some twisted and deformed others bloody and crumpled. Most looked as if they had been destroyed by magic, either Lightning or Fire.

"Perhaps the same that had attacked Gongaga," wondered the ninja aloud, blanching suddenly at the thought. If the two were connected, then there was a new menace on Gaia, one that none of them knew anything about.

"I'm putting her down now," Cid called out as he prepped the Highwind for a landing. Calloused pilot fingers danced quickly over the control panel, flicking switches and adjusting controls. Cid knew exactly what he was doing, even if he hadn't personally piloted his airship in a long time. His face was set with grim determination, trying not to keep staring out the window at the smoking Cosmo Canyon.

Nanaki nodded in understanding of Cid's warning and took off towards the cargo bay, determined to get off as soon as possible. His feet carried him quickly towards the door, his mind in another place already. He was first of all worried about his Grandfather and how the elder man had fared in the attack.

He had to hold back a snort at that. From the looks of it, the town seemed more the location of a massacre rather than an attack. Bodies littered the ground and homes were little more than piles of smoking, still-glowing debris. He couldn't be sure whether the attackers were actually defeated or just left because there was nothing left to destroy. He automatically tightened the claw on his arm, just in case he met some monsters down on the ground.

Yuffie watched the demi-human leave before quickly making her decision. She followed after him, knowing he did not need to be alone at this time. If she had been in his position… well, she wasn't sure her anger would be able to be contained.

"Nanaki, wait for me," she called out, hurrying to follow him. He seemed very single-minded in his task, his thoughts in many places as he tried to hold back his own flood of tears. It was the sight of his home… on the top of the mountain that was little more than a husk of blackened debris that had done it for him. He had to know the fate of his grandfather; he had to!

The golden-eyed man felt a hand on his arm and stopped abruptly, turning his head and looking to see who had touched him. In his grief, he nearly did not recognize Yuffie and had to force himself to calm down. He closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths before opening them again and allowing himself a glimpse into those granite eyes that often made him feel wobbly-kneed.

"Hey," she said softly, tightening her grip on his arm and squeezing him gently. "I am here for you, okay?"

His angry gaze softened, and he afforded her a small smile. "I am grateful for that," he responded. And truly he was. It was good to have friends. When he had been in Hojo's care, he had been so alone, dealing with everything on his own. All the pain and tests… the experiments… he shuddered to think about it.

Just then, the airship gave a slight hitch, and the two knew that Cid had landed it. After exchanging glances, Nanaki and Yuffie continued on their path, hurriedly making their way to the cargo bay. Within moments they were lowering the ramp and stepping out onto the ground to get their first close up view of the devastation.

The smell of burning was what hit them first… burning wood, stone… living beings; the air was filled with soot and scorched flesh. Yuffie covered her nose and mouth with an arm as she looked about, eyes widening. Everywhere it was still aflame, and she knew what she had to do. She knew of only way to extinguish all the flame.

"I am going to call Leviathan," she told Nanaki. "He can put out these fires and destroy any enemies that remain." The Water God was her absolute favorite summon, had always been since she was little and dreamed of oceans and far away lands beneath the sea.

"Call his true name," the demi-human responded a bit distractedly. He didn't spare her a glance, too busy taking in the scene before them. He was scanning for signs of life first, muscles tensed for an attack that he wanted to be prepared for.

Yuffie quirked an eyebrow at him and gave a quizzical look. "His… true name?"

Nanaki turned and nodded slightly as the air next to him shimmered before a figure suddenly appeared. It was a beautiful woman with flaming red hair that was braided into many intricate knots and shining crystalline blue eyes that had no bounds. She was slightly shorter than the demi-human, only coming up to his shoulder and wore no shoes on her feet although pretty bangles of gold jingled on her ankles. She was dressed in a cloak that seemed more like a pair of fiery wings crossed in front of her and latched at her throat. The woman was astoundingly beautiful.

Yuffie was speechless. "W… who?" It seemed she could voice nothing more intelligent than that stuttered word.

"I am Suzaku," answered the woman in an airy voice that was more musical than anything. "Or as you more commonly know me, Phoenix. This is my human form, more suitable for standing next to my animus than the huge bird form." She smiled at the ninja softly, before returning her attentions to Nanaki, inspecting him with concerned crystalline eyes.

"You called him once before, you spoke his name," continued Nanaki, though his voice sounded distant and cold. He was hurting deep inside and was slowly fading… "Back in the crater before the battle with Sephiroth or so you told me… his name of old…"

The ninja blinked as she appeared to consider his words before it seemed a light bulb flashed over her brain. She remembered… the name of the ancient sea god before the war and before Leviathan. It appeared that they were one and the same.

Nanaki heard footsteps on the ramp behind him and saw Cid coming down but motioned for the pilot to be silent. The blond cast him a strange look but obeyed, coming to stand just behind the two as Yuffie appeared to concentrate.

"Barinthus," she spoke softly, as if afraid of what would happen. For a moment, nothing appeared until she heard the sound of rushing waves from deep within her heart.

A ball of water began to coalesce above the tiny group, growing in intensity and size as it glowed a brilliant shining blue. It flashed twice before exploding into the form of the great sea serpent, Barinthus. He roared quietly before twirling his great body around the three present, nuzzling Yuffie gently and gliding off towards Cosmo Canyon, extinguishing fires as he moved.

"Wow…" breathed the ninja. Her eyes widened in awe and a brief grin appeared on her face, barely pushing away the sorrow that was starting to gather.

Nanaki allowed himself a small smile as he patted her on the head. "He is your anima, as Suzaku is mine. The two of you are meant to fight together," he commented before moving towards the city, the phoenix demi-goddess by his side.

Cid was standing in awe behind the two, surprised that his younger friends could be so powerful. He idly wondered if he would have such a gift but put that thought aside. The only thing he wanted was Vincent… and to find him he would have to go into Cosmo Canyon.

He and Yuffie exchanged glances before they, too, followed after Nanaki. For the second time that week, the three friends were forced to guard their hearts against the grief that threatened to consume them. War had indeed struck Gaia… war that no one was prepared for.

Cid tried not to let all the destruction affect him. Yet, the sight of tear-streaked ashen faces as they wandered, searching for lost love ones filled him with a familiar ache and longing. He could understand what they were feeling and didn't wish that hurt upon anyone. He unconsciously reached into his pockets and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up as his hands began to tremble slightly. Too much… it was all too much…

A hand touched him lightly on his arm and Cid started, looking down into the worried brown eyes of Yuffie. She offered him up a small smile.

"Hey, you're shaking…" she commented.

"Needed a cigarette," he responded with an off-handed shrug as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack, lighting one quickly. She looked as if she didn't believe him.

Yuffie regarded him for a moment before squeezing his arm and letting him go. "He will be fine. Vinny doesn't exactly lie down and give in, you know?"

Cid allowed the smallest of grins to peek out on his face. "Yeah, you're right about that brat. Now, let's see if we can find him, eh?"

The sound of a long and loud mournful cry echoed from all around them. Ahead, Nanaki had drawn to a stop, head cocked towards the sky as his eyes closed and he listened. Suzaku has placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and was murmuring something softly.

The sound seemed to fill the air, almost musically seeming much like a funeral dirge. It appeared as if someone were being mourned for. It broke through all barriers and touched each of the three friends deep inside their hearts. Yuffie herself felt as if she would cry from the sound.

The air beside her shimmered and an older looking man with shining jade-aquamarine eyes and hair the color of turquoise stone stood there. He wore a gi and hakama of brilliant cerulean that seemed to flow as if it were water and his wizened face was handsome.

"It's Isis," spoke the man, his voice soft and bubbly. It was a deep voice, melodious and pleasant on the ears, sounding much like waves crashing over a shore on a warm day. "She mourns the loss of her animus."

Yuffie turned to him startled, her eyes widening. "Barinthus?"

He nodded and smiled softly. "Hai. This is my human form. All of we demi-gods have one."

Suddenly, in front of them, Nanaki took off at a dead run, heading deeper into Cosmo Canyon and straight towards the remains of the building he once called home. Suzaku floated at his side, more hovering than running. Cid, Yuffie, and Barinthus were frozen for a moment in surprise as the demi-human hadn't said anything before he started to run.

Exchanging quick glances, in agreement for once, the pilot and the ninja took off after their emotionally damaged friend. They tried to push past the destruction that was around them but found they couldn't tear their eyes away.

Cid ran after Nanaki but his mind was in another place. He was worried. Bugenhagen had claimed that he had found Vincent, and if that were true, the ex-Turk was somewhere in Cosmo Canyon… but said town had been attacked and nearly completely destroyed. Would he be able to find his lover?

It seemed as if fate and luck were against him. Every time he should have drawn close to Vincent, something would throw him off course. Whether it be in the form of a certain dark-haired president or a horde of monsters intent on destroying a city. The pilot sighed. No matter what it took or the hell he had to cross, he would find Vincent… because he had promised himself that without the ex-Turk it just wasn't worth it.

"Dammit, Vince," he muttered more to himself than to anyone else. "Ya didn't have to give yourself up like that; we could have found another way…" But even as he spoke those words, he knew that they were probably false. Vincent was intelligent, even if he was guilt-driven. There probably was no other method.

The blond pilot skidded to a stop, Yuffie nearly crashing into his back. His blue eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. In his thoughts, he had ran without sight, finally catching up to Nanaki, and he didn't like what he saw.

The demi-human had stopped abruptly in the path, hands clenched at his side as he stared with trembling shoulders at a still form lying on the ground just outside the husk of his former home. Yuffie gasped from beside Cid and buried her face in the pilot's shoulder. Unused to giving comfort, the blond put an awkward arm around the girl and patted her back soothingly, his own face softening.

There was another form kneeling beside that of the one on the ground. This one was that of a tawny-haired female, scantily dressed in golden furs and such with a feathered headdress of golden plumage. She had bronze skin and piercing azure eyes although they shimmered with tears that streaked down her smoke-stained face. The woman seemed to be translucent, her body both there and not there as a trembling hand patted the white ash-choked hair on a very familiar head.

Nanaki stood there for a moment not moving. The phoenix put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off without a word as he took several small steps forward before sinking to his knees on the ground. He grabbed his claw weapon violently, jerking it off and tossing it aside. The metal clattered to the ground, an unwelcome noise in the silence. The red-haired demi-human's shoulders slumped as he reached out with trembling fingers.

"Grandfather…" came his murmured voice on the wind, so very soft and broken.

The demi-human brushed some of the white hair out of Bugenhagen's face and looked down with sorrow-filled amber eyes, liquid with unshed tears. His grandfather seemed so peaceful, not a trace of pain in the smoke-streaked features. Beside him, the golden woman wept quietly, her form flickering in and out.

"I tried but there were too many…" sobbed the woman. "I'm not a fighter, but I tried…" she trailed off, breaking into tears anew. "We had been together so long. He was one of the few that could hear us, hear me."

Cid blinked with sudden understanding as the small ninja quivered in his arms, soaking his shirt with her tears. She had grown close to the older wise man in the past six months, having spent nearly every waking moment learning from him alongside her best friend. Barinthus moved smoothly to the pilot's side and nodded as if confirming Cid's suspicions. Even his sea eyes were dimmed with the pain of loss. Bugenhagen had been very well known among the demi-gods. The tawny-haired woman was Isis, Bugenhagen's anima.

"I should have been here," Nanaki whispered, his voice breaking as a small silvery trail of tears began to make its way down his face. "If I had…" He was unable to continue, balling his hand into a fist in anger with himself… for his failure.

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Suzaku intoned, moving to kneel beside her animus and offering a consoling arm to her demi-god friend. Isis accepted the hand gratefully, body still wracked with sobs. The lioness demi-god and her anima had been especially close having spent over one-hundred years linked together. "You couldn't possibly have been everywhere at once."

The demi-human blinked, as if seeing his anima for the first time. A sudden dawning crossed his features. "Suzaku, you have restorative powers! You can bring him back!"

The phoenix in human form lowered her eyes mournfully, brushing the back of her hand over the fallen grandfather's forehead. "I cannot. It is far too late…"

"You are a demi-god," protested the golden-eyed man. "I don't understand! Why can't you save him!" his voice cracked as he reached out with one arm to grab the shoulder of his anima. He latched onto her, surprised that beneath his fingers he felt fabric rather than the feathers he had expected.

Suzaku looked at him sadly, her face softening at the anguish she saw there. She wholly wished that she could do as he asked if only to take away that look. "I can't…" she whispered softly. "He has lived his time."

Nanaki's fingers loosened in their hold as he slumped, head falling downwards as his chin struck his chest. Red-hair curtained his face, hiding his expression although the drops of salty water raining down on his knees and the smoke-streaked ground were unmistakable. His shoulders shook and the sound of broken sobbing permeated the area. The demi-human had lost the last semblance of family that he had. There was no consolation for that.

Cid turned his gaze away, unable to watch his friend break down any longer. It brought up far too many painful memories for himself. The lamenting and melancholy he had been fighting with over the past six months struck him anew as he was reminded of his own loss. He felt movement and saw Yuffie detaching herself from his side only to move to that of her best friend.

She knelt behind him and laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his stomach loosely. She didn't speak, knowing it was enough for him to know she was there for him. He didn't say anything either, only continued to weep his sorrow, unafraid to show his pain. One of his own hands went to hers, covering the slimmer, smaller fingers with his larger ones.

Cid turned away from the scene, trying to push down what was bubbling up in his heart, threatening to overtake him. One thought was prevalent on his mind. Where was Vincent? If Bugenhagen was there… and the house was destroyed behind him, then where was the man that the grandfather had thought was Vincent? The pilot took several steps away, leaving the two and the demi-gods to their sorrow. He was nowhere near as close to Bugenhagen as they and knew he would be of no use in comfort. Not when he was trying to fight down his own misery and pain.

He walked away to a small pile of blackened boulders and uncaring about their state, sat upon one, staring out over the destroyed town. So much devastation and death… and for what purpose? When was Gaia ever going to find peace? Sighing to himself, and pushing down the disconsolate feelings within him, Cid dug into his pocket for his PHS, knowing he had to call Reeve and tell him what had happened in Cosmo Canyon.

Tears… he was well acquainted with those. Crying and struggling to maintain some kind of grasp on sanity while his heart tore itself into so many pieces forever unable to be repaired. At least Bugenhagen had had his chance to live. His opportunity to love and be loved, a long fulfilling life filled with everything that composed his happiness and sorrow. Cid hadn't hardly the chance to be with the one he truly loved before it was taken from him.

Shaking his head to clear away his dire thoughts, the pilot pressed the auto-dial button for Reeve's cell and stared out over the broken city, unconsciously lighting a cigarette as he did so. He had a feeling that he was soon going to need a lot more. The sun was slowly beginning to set, casting rays of orange and gold over Cosmo Canyon, illuminating the pink and tangerine walls of the stone that surrounded the city. On any normal day it would have been beautiful. However, on a day of such bad tidings, it was only a bringer of sorrow.

The phone rang in his ear twice more before someone finally answered. There was a click and then static blared in his ear, hissing and crackling.

"What the fuck?" questioned the pilot, holding the PHS away from his ear with an irritated frown. It sputtered at him as if angry.

"Hello?" came a distant voice, trying to break through the interference. The pilot instantly recognized it.

Cid blinked and brought the phone as near to his ear as the static would allow. "Reeve?"

"Cid? … what…. too?" The President's voice was fading in and out and the pilot could hardly make him out. "Some of the … destroyed… in …. battle..."

The blond strained his ears to listen as the words battle struck him suddenly. Had Midgar been attacked, as well? "There's been an attack on Cosmo Canyon," informed the pilot the moment there was a second of clear air.

"One on Midgar also," said Reeve in response, for the moment their connection perfectly clean. "Things are bad, but we handled it. Most of the city remained intact."

Cid took a puff of his cigarette, releasing the breath he had been holding. "It's not so good here." The phone crackled once more and he was forced to wait for it to clear, glowering at every second that passed. "Whatever it was destroyed the town, making it little more than a collection of burned buildings. Bugenhagen… he… didn't make it."

The President sighed softly. "I know Nanaki is crushed. Do you know what attacked?"

"Haven't been able to talk to anyone yet. Isis keeps fading in and out and all the survivors have fled into hiding, deep within the twisting tunnels of the mountains of Cosmo. The others… well, it's going to be a long time before the town can recover," responded the blond, casually flicking ashes from his cigarette onto the ground as he stared at the ruins of Cosmo Canyon. The wind ruffled at his clothes, attempting to send a chill to his bones. Little did it know but Cid was already cold, inside and out, slowly dying day by day...

The phone crackled loudly and fizzed in his air, sounding very much like a snowy television set. Cid grimaced and held the phone away from his ear, glancing just once at the level of bars on the screen. He had just one, no surprise there. Cosmo Canyon had one of the worst locations for towers and many had probably been destroyed in the attack.

"Cid? Cid? Are you there?" Reeve's voice cut through the fizz.

Cid hopped down from the rock and started to walk, hoping that would help the reception. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Listen, I'm going to be quick because I don't know how long the connection is going to last. But stay in Cosmo Canyon for now. I don't know what's going on, but I fear if you go into the air you might come crashing down in a way you least expect. Tifa still hasn't contacted me." Reeve's voice dropped an octave, making it increasingly difficult for the pilot to hear him. "Tseng suspects that there is someone on the inside."

"I'm not leaving anyway," replied Cid gruffly. "Vincent is here somewhere and I'm going to find him."

"What?" exclaimed Reeve. "What are you talking about?"

Cid sighed and flicked his extinguished cigarette onto the ground before rubbing his forehead in annoyance. Though he talked on the phone he kept an eagle eye out for anyone who might either be alive, or look even remotely like Vincent.

"Bugenhagen called me, which is why I am here, and told me that he had found Vincent. I'm not leaving until I find out what happened and if he's still here."

Reeve was silent for a moment. "What if… what if it's another hoax Cid? I mean, can you really trust anyone who's making that claim?"

"I don't want to hear it, Reeve," cut in the pilot. "I've had enough of your meddling. Thanks for caring, but I need to do this on my own. I am the only one who seems to think he's alive anymore, and I'll be damned if anyone else slows me down."

"But-"

"No." Cid shook his head negatively although the President could not see him. It was more the principal of the movement rather than the actual movement itself. "I'm doing this Reeve. It's not as if I need your consent. Take care of Midgar and for gods sakes, go find your own lover." He didn't wait for the executive to respond before hanging up the phone. It was then that the pilot realized he was still somewhat furious with the dark-haired man. His anger had not faded by much.

Sighing, Cid slipped the phone back into his pocket and surveyed the area around him once more. There didn't appear to be any living creatures in the city. The survivors had fled, and monster carcasses littered the area.

Curious as to what had attacked Cosmo Canyon, the pilot skidded down a small embankment until he was standing on level ground and in front of a few bodies. He walked boldly up to one, kicking at it and turning it over.

It was a winged bat demon, similar to the type that he had seen in a big pile outside of Gongaga. He didn't recognize the species as one that he had fought against before. In fact, most of the monster bodies that he saw he did not recognize. Were they mutating? Did it have something to do with Hojo's experiments? Had they gotten loose before the Turks could destroy them all?

Frowning, the pilot moved from the body at his feet to the next. It was charred as if it had been struck by lightning. He recognized the tell-tale signs. This monster he did not recognize either, and he had thought that he had fought all that existed on Gaia in the battle against Sephiroth. And why hadn't their bodies dissolved like the others? That was not good…

Stones clattering on stones alerted him to the fact that he was alone. He surreptitiously placed a hand on his spear as he listened intently, trying to determine the direction of the noise and whether or not it was a threat. There was another small clatter just behind him, a little to the left. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the Venus Gospel and pulled it out at the same moment that he twisted his body, ready to meet his foe, jaw nearly dropping in surprise.

It was a strange monster that was leering down at him, indeed from nearly a height that towered over his by four feet or more. It was completely black, almost the color of pitch and blended with the shadows. It vaguely resembled a Marlboro but had enormous wings jutting from its shoulders, and its body seemed to be covered in feathers and tentacles.

"What the… fuck!" Cid had no time to ponder as suddenly several tentacles shot out at him, at speeds almost faster than his eyes could detect. He dodged the first and sliced the second, diving to the ground and rolling to avoid the third all in one same motion. It seemed six months of peace had not slowed his reflexes at all.

Rolling to his feet, the pilot glared at the monster, mentally reviewing his stock of materia. Fire, Lightning, Meteor, but nothing that would protect him. The creature roared, its voice sounding more like a loud 'kweh!' before it flexed its body and shot a stream of razor sharp feathers at him.

Cid planted his feet and spun his spear in a vicious circle, effectively warding of the sharp projectiles only missing once when one sliced him across the cheek.

"Fuck this!" he growled, tossing a fist at the creature. "Bolt 3!" Lightning crashed down from a clear sky and struck the creature in the head, stunning it momentarily and illuminating the area around. The sound of thunder resounded through the air, echoing across the empty and still smoke clogged sky.

Cid's eyes widened. It couldn't be… but it was. The monster was a Chocoboro, though he hadn't heard of one in such a color, or away from Midgar for that matter. Hojo had only created those creatures in the Midgar labs, not anywhere else. How had it gotten to Cosmo Canyon?

Suddenly, the black Chocoboro began to flap its wings as if preparing to take flight, throwing a constant barrage of sharp feathers and tentacles at its prey. It keened like a bird once more as its body slowly began to rise into the air, aided by its massive wings.

Cid ducked and rolled, avoiding the projectiles as he ran carefully towards the monster, anger flushing his features. The damn beast was making a fool of him. His body was beginning to glow a reddish-orange color, the signs of the beginnings of a limit break.

"Take this damn freak!" he growled, nimbly slicing a tentacle as he leapt at the rising beast high into the air. He drove his weapon deep into the monster's body, sending in his own power so that an explosion resounded throughout its feathered blobby frame and throwing him a few feet backwards.

The Chocoboro crashed to the ground, cawing in pain as its tentacles writhed in pain. Cid landed with a grunt on his back, several feet away from the creature. For a moment, the two enemies struggled to rise up off the ground, bodies wracked with pain. Cid coughed, trying to breathe air into his smoke-infested lungs, mentally cursing every cigarette he had ever inhaled, though he would never confess that to anyone else.

"Fire3!" he cast quickly while he struggled to regain a breath, sending a stream of fire on the creature. It rapidly enveloped the monster, causing it to burst into flame and 'kweh' angrily.

The Chocoboro jumped to its feet and heaved in a big breath, ignoring the pain of its burnt body. Cid moved to a kneeling position, eyeing the creature warily. He didn't know what it had planned, or even what attacks it could use.

With a large exhale, sounding indeed like a train in a tunnel, the creature blew out a gale of poisonous gas that ignited when it passed by the flames surrounding the Chocoboro's body. Blue eyes widened in surprise as Cid dove to the right to avoid the attack, body rolling across the ground.

He hissed in pain when some of the deadly breath connected with the last of his left leg and started to burn like acid. "Fucking hell!" he cursed, drawing up into a slight crouch with his injured leg tingling and burning beneath him. "Why won't you just die?"

The Chocoboro cackled as if it understood Cid's words and turned to face the pilot, who was now breathing heavily with pain and exertion. Several tentacles shot out at the blond, more than he could block on his own. He held out an arm, intending to cast Meteor, when a black appendage shot by him, grazing his forearm and shattering the armlet from around his arm. It flew into many pieces, landing all about him in bits of pieces.

Cid scarcely blinked before he realized that all he had left to him was a spear. That thing was significantly more powerful than the ones that the Turks had to destroy. What had caused it to change?

The Chocoboro 'kweh'ed loudly as it advanced on the pilot, an abnormal and shockingly pink tongue escaping from its mouth to lick lips that weren't present. It considered the blond defeated and an easy kill.

"Fuck you!" cursed the pilot glaring. "I ain't going down without a fight."

The Chocoboro took a step towards him, menace gleaming in its blood red eye when an orange flash suddenly appeared between the two. It stopped, eye widening in surprise before orange blood began to seep, and its head slowly slid down from its 'neck' only to plop on the ground with a disgusting slurp and gurgle.

"Old man, you're hurt," came Yuffie's voice from beside the pilot suddenly. Cid gaped as Nanaki appeared, as well, claw stained with orange blood and black Chocoboro gunk.

"What the hell… just happened?" questioned Cid even as he fell back on his ass, unable to support his weight on his injured leg any longer.

The ninja smiled slightly before holding out her cure materia, casting the healing magic on Cid's legs and relieving the burn, helping the singed skin in growing quickly. "He's gotten faster than he once was," she said by way of explanation.

The pilot turned eyes towards Nanaki. "You were that blur I saw seconds before its damn head just fucking fell off?"

The demi-human nodded. "You shouldn't have wandered off alone. This place is still teeming with monsters."

Cid waved an arm of dismissal. "I'm a grown ass man. I coulda handled myself."

Yuffie smirked. "Yes, you seemed to be doing just fine when we wandered up."

The pilot blustered, shooting her an irritated glare. "You didn't give me any time. I was drawing it in for my final attack," he explained. However, he knew the truth of the matter. His moves were slow, reflexes even slower, and his strength diminished. Before, that monster would have been a piece of cake. Ever since he had lost Vincent in the crater, he had been letting himself go… not eating or sleeping. As a result, his battle skills had gone down. He could have been killed…

"You didn't find any traces of him then?" asked Nanaki, his question instantly returning the somber feeling to the group.

Cid sighed as Yuffie finished healing his leg and stood shakily to his feet. "Not a damn thing. But one of the survivors might know something, if we can just get them to come out of hiding."

Nanaki nodded. "There's an entrance in the floor of all the lower shops… the inn and such. I've got some things to take care of, but Yuffie and you can go talk to them." He waved a hand briefly towards the lower levels of Cosmo Canyon before turning and dashing away.

Yuffie bit her lip and watched her friend rush back towards the upper levels of the town. "He is still hurting."

The pilot sighed in agreement, bending down to swipe the Venus Gospel up off the ground. "Hai. But that is to be expected. It will be a while before he can even accept it."

'Kind of like someone else I know,' snorted the ninja internally. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and looked up at the older man. "Let's go find Vinny, okay?"

Cid nodded and gestured her to walk in front of him. The two headed towards the lower levels, the pilot unable to resist one last jab as he kicked at the Chocoboro's head and caused it to roll around the ground as they walked past.

Neither of the two noticed the small shining metallic object that popped off the back of the creature's head and fell to the ground as Cid kicked it.

----

Whew, that was a long chapter. I hadn't intended it to be so lengthy.


	19. Lost Number

Thanks to my reviewers!

Wolven Falls: The last line isn't really meant to be understood at this point. It was just something to think about for the future.

Jeredu: Always glad to see a new reader and reviewer! I hope I can continue to keep you interested! Thanks for your review!

----Flashback-----

**Chapter 19: Lost Number**

A strange feeling gripped his heart as he stared at the gates to the small mountain town. Something about the place seemed familiar to him, as if he had been there before. Vincent frowned slightly and paused in his steps, for some reason, a strong foreboding sensation gripping him.

He also worried about Cosmo Canyon. He feared for the safety of the people there and wondered if Bugenhagen and Isis would be able to push back the creatures. The last time he had looked back, all he could see was the town lit up by the bright orange glow of flame. It had taken all of his will, and Erebus' continuous prodding to keep him from turning back.

He sincerely hoped that it was all worth it because he felt the lowest of the low for fleeing to safety.

A low chuckle sounded from right beside him. "Hesitation? That's a new one," Erebus commented, his black robes swishing across the ground.

"This place gives me odd feelings," retorted the dark-haired man without even sparing a glance at the demi-god.

Erebus chuckled once more but did not say anything else. Ignoring his anima, Vincent slowly began to walk into the town, the sign above the gate swinging in the breeze and reading Nibelheim. The moment he stepped through and beneath the archway, the memories smacked him the face with enough of a touch of reality to make him question his existence.

--------

Smack!

"You have no right!" she hissed, jerking her arm from his grasp. "This is my life!

"But Lucrecia…"

"No!" She shook her head, promptly cutting off any protests he might have made, her brown hair swinging from side to side. He tried not to pay attention to the way the sun caught the light highlights in her hair, so enamored by her he was. "I love Hojo, not you, Vincent! We are friends, nothing more!"

"But he's killing you!" the Turk replied in anguish, holding out his arms entreatingly.

Lucrecia frowned and took a step backwards. "Don't play around with things you don't understand." Those were her last words before she ran away from him and fled back towards the mansion.

The grey-eyed man could do nothing but look after her arm outstretched, as if reaching for her, feeling as if his heart were breaking in two. His fists clenched at his side as hatred began to fill in the gaps… hatred for that damned scientist Hojo.

He had to protect Lucrecia. She had no idea what she was truly getting herself into. And the child… it needed his protection, as well. Someone had to stand up to that bastard!

His resolve strengthened, Vincent turned and headed out of the town. He needed to take some time to work off his anger before he attempted to go back into the mansion. He knew if he saw that smug face, he might not be able to restrain himself. Casting one more sorrowful glance at the path that Lucrecia had taken, the Turk drew his gun and prepared to take out his anger on some plains monsters, weak though they were…

--------

Vincent gasped and reeled, his head spinning from the sudden onslaught of vivid memories. He felt abnormally dizzy and stumbled on his feet, hand flying out to grab a hold of something to steady himself. A bony hand snaked out and latched onto his arm, providing something solid for him to cling to. He stood stock still a moment, one hand going to his head as he waited for the world to stop spinning.

"Vincent?" the dry, raspy tone of Erebus questioned with concern.

The grey-eyed man shook his head slowly, blinking a few times to clear away the tears that had sprung to his eyes unbidden. "Nothing… just a memory."

Erebus chuckled. "I'm not surprised," he replied, pushing him back to his feet with one hand as he flicked the dark-haired man's forehead with a bony finger. "Your mind has this uncanny ability to suddenly forget itself at a moment's notice."

Vincent pushed away his anima with an irritated hand and brushed hair out of his face, a strand having broken free from the loose ponytail that he was wearing it in. Without another word, he moved past Erebus and went into the small town of Nibelheim.

The first thing he noticed was how strangely quiet it was. There were no children playing outside nor could he hear any noise from any of the homes. A bird cawed softly from a roof and the sound of the wind blowing noisily were the only things he could hear. The dark-haired man looked to the sky and noticed the gathering storm clouds. It was going to rain soon and he wanted to be inside before then. Yet, he still had time, and he would spend that wandering around the town.

He walked past a few homes, peering nosily in a few windows. However, he found that both of them were abandoned, appearing as if they hadn't been lived in quite a while. Layers of dust coated everything with a thick covering of age. Many of the windows were infested with spider webs, and the boards of the porches creaked noisily. He did notice that the few homes that held people were inhabited by recluses. He saw curtains shift slightly as he was observed, but other than that, they refused to answer the door or even leave their homes. The place was very odd, and it gave him an uncomfortable and unsettled feeling.

Everything in the town, surprisingly enough, seemed to be centered around a rusted and dilapidated water tower that looked as if it hadn't been used in years.

He tried to go to the few stores that were present, bar included, to try and find out any information but was still sorely lacking. The shop was very under stocked with higher prices than he was willing to pay, and no one sold any materia. There was only one patron in the bar, and he was so utterly drunk already that it was to no point to talk to him. The bartender feigned ignorance, claiming he had only moved to the town a short while ago and had done it for the peace and quiet.

Hmph, peace and quiet indeed. It was as if the entire town had just up and died one day, and no one bothered enough to care.

He couldn't help but wonder how he was supposed to find answers about his life in a dying town. There were very few inhabitants, none of whom recognized him.

Not to mention the odd feeling he had about the town. It didn't scare him, but it did leave him constantly twitching anxious to leave, though he wasn't sure he wanted to go wandering the mountains in the middle of the night and with an approaching thunderstorm. Erebus had disappeared; he wasn't ever really sure where the demi-god went when he wasn't annoying him.

However, it was probably the one place he had not yet visited that made him want to leave the most. The entire time he wandered and browsed, he felt an unexplainable pull towards the creepy mansion on the outskirts of town, surrounded by a rickety fence that was the epitome of horror movies everywhere. He tried to ignore the feeling, a bit unnerved by it but, in the end, succumbed to his senses.

Vincent paused just in front of the fence as he took one step towards the mansion that the Inn Master had explained was owned by the "ShinRa". He claimed it had been abandoned for as long as he could remember, and so far, no one from the company had come to do anything about it. Most of the townspeople were afraid of it and didn't go anywhere near. There were many ghost stories circulating around that particular building, and Vincent didn't blame them. The place was creepy.

The dark-haired man looked at the sky once more, feeling the slight breath of moisture on the air and knew the storm was fast approaching. He faced a moment of indecision. Should he return to the inn and sleep until the storm passed or heed the strange pull towards the dilapidated building?

Erebus chuckled, suddenly appearing right beside him. "Wonderful vacation spot, do you not think? The air of suspicion and paranoia makes for rest and relaxation. Not to mention the dead flowers and browning shrubs… why it will provide the holiday of a lifetime."

Vincent glared at the demi-god. "Why did you tell me to come here?" His eyes flickered to the ShinRa mansion for just a moment before returning to the demi-god. "This place might as well be dead."

Erebus didn't respond, instead shifting his gaze towards that of the mansion as if considering. "You seem to be avoiding this place. I wonder why?"

"Don't play mind games with me," the grey-eyed man snarled. "Do I need to go in there or not?"

"Ah, there goes that loss of patience once again. Has time really changed you that much?" questioned the demi-god as he shook his head and shrugged. "I cannot tell you what to do. You are the one who fears a building."

Vincent irritated, pushed open the gate to the fence and moved past the demi-god into the front yard of the mansion. "I am not afraid," he muttered, annoyed. "Just cautious…"

There was a squeak and a slam as the gate slid shut behind him, though he knew that Erebus was still there by the sound of robes swishing across the ground and the creaking of bones. The demi-god could be absolutely silent when he wished but at times didn't particularly care.

The raven-haired man stood in front of the mansion and looked up at it, taking in the sloping of the porch and the broken windows in the face of the house. The front yard had been left untended for so long that it had overgrown and then collapsed with the weight of the weeds. There were many windows; everywhere he looked, shining dust-covered glass decorated the house face. It was a very old building, and looking at it sent shivers of trepidation down his spine, though he didn't understand why.

Before the demi-god could accuse him of being afraid, Vincent moved towards the front door, easily pushing it open on creaking, rusty hinges until he stepped into the dim, dusty dark of the mansion. Thanks to all the windows he had some visibility, but other than that, he was forced to peer to see anything. He dimly registered a staircase and a high chandelier, as well as two or three doors on the lower floor. His ears picked up the low rumble of thunder from rather close by, but other than the creaking of the old house as it settled, it was silent.

He moved into the mansion, unable to shake the feeling that he somehow knew this place. Moving into the room to the left of the door, he found a piece of paper on the floor. Intrigued, he picked it up and glanced at the yellowed, faded parchment that appeared to be a piece of lab notes. There was something written on it and he strained to make it out.

(… for the lid of the box with the… Ivory's short of tea… creek in the floor… up nine steps… and… six steps…)

The words were much too faded, and the paper crumpled in his grasp before he could understand any more. Shaking his head, he allowed the paper to flutter back towards the floor before turning his back on the otherwise empty room and moving into the rest of the house.

The rooms on the lower floor were mostly filled with junk and clutter, as if the building had been a dropping ground for furniture, all of it unwanted. There were no pictures or documents and very few books, making it difficult for him to discern anything of importance about the decaying mansion. Yet, he still could not shake the feeling that _something_ was there… whether or not he could see it.

There was a piano in one of the rooms, two of the notes vastly off key and covered with thick layers of dust, though it appeared someone had recently been running their fingers over the ivory.

There were a few rooms with beds in them, uncomfortable looking ones at that, and even one wall that had strange scratches on it that he wasn't sure he wanted to contemplate.

One room on the second floor had an opened safe within it, anything of value having already been taken by the previous inhabitants or common thieves, he really didn't care which. The strangest thing; however, were the mysterious scores on the inside of the lid as if something had been trapped within…

However, it was the room in the northern part of the house that intrigued him. While all the other walls appeared to be made of the same material, for some reason, a corner of this room was made of carefully constructed stone glued together with a grey mortar. Vincent frowned and observed it carefully. It seemed so out of place, and he felt as if there were something behind the wall. Why else would it appear to be so different? No other rooms had anything that unique.

He moved up to the stone wall and ran his fingers over the cool rock. It was rough beneath his touch, not hewn to be smooth. He idly pushed on it, exerting a little strength and was surprised to find that it groaned beneath his touch and shifted slightly. Encouraged by this, Vincent placed both hands flat on the stone and pressed, hard. The door swung inwards at this, and a breath of cold stagnant air hit him in the face.

The dark-haired man wrinkled his nose at the decidedly vile odor and peered into the dusty dark. He could barely make out a set of wooden stairs that lead downwards. He stepped onto the first bit of plank and looked down, paling considerably. They spiraled downwards, occasional gaps in the wood and absolutely no handrails. If he fell… he couldn't be sure he'd survive the fall.

Taking a deep breath, Vincent gingerly started to make his way down the steps, wincing at every small creak and groan of the decidedly ancient wood. He kept one hand on the mossy stone wall for balance as he descended. The further down he got, the chillier the air and more rank, as well. He wondered where it led… and why it seemed he was being pulled downwards.

Finally, he reached a ladder and climbed down it until he was standing at the very bottom of a rock tunnel, lit by small lights in the ceiling. He couldn't help but wonder how it was being powered being as nothing upstairs seemed to work. He peered into the dim, the lights not being very strong, and saw that there seemed to be a tunnel that led straightforward.

Wrapping his cloak tighter about his body as protection against the outright cold and to keep himself from shivering, he pushed forward into the stone tunnel, idly noting the chains that hung from the ceilings or the weird purplish glow the entire place seemed to have.

He didn't want to think about how creepy it really was beneath the ground. It was so dim that his mind was literally creating shapes out of nothing, and it was quiet, as well. He could near nothing save for the faint chinking of the chains or a breath of wind coming from somewhere. He strained his ears to listen, almost expecting something to appear which made his paranoia rise even higher. The darkness was cloaking all around him, grasping with phantasmal fingers…

Suddenly, a pair of hands latched on his shoulders and gripped tightly, appearing out of nowhere. He stiffened entirely, a shiver of stark fear running through his body as a cold wave of trepidation raced down his back. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he was forced to stifle a cry of fear. For the moment he forgot he had a weapon and only remembered that he had heard nothing, nothing at all and briefly considered passing out. His heart began to pound rapidly, every sense in his body urging him to run! His mind went utterly blank…

Until a dry, rasping chuckle from directly behind him caused him to flush with embarrassment. The hands left his shoulder, and Vincent whirled around only to come face to face with his anima.

"Not scared one bit, are we?" teased the demi-god. "Kami, I wish I could have seen your face but feeling that wash of fear, now that was classic."

"Bastard," hissed Vincent. "Why did you do that?"

Erebus waved a hand of dismissal. "You were creeping down this tunnel as if you expected something to jump out at you. I only heeded your expectations." It was obvious the demi-god was trying to restrain his amusement.

The dark-haired man snorted and turned his back on his anima, not at all amused by what had just occurred. "That was not funny," he growled, trying to hide his chagrin.

"I thought it was," the demi-god snickered. When Vincent didn't reply, Erebus shrugged to himself more than anyone else. "Fine then, I am gone. You know, I have other duties other than protecting your impatient self."

The dark-haired man waved a hand of dismissal at the demi-god, still seething at having been embarrassed so and took a few steps forward. He glanced back only once glad to see that Erebus had indeed left. Breathing a sigh of relief he returned his attentions to the underground tunnel.

After a few moments, really not that long at all, he stopped and found himself confronted with two doors, one to the left and one just in front of him. Someone must have wanted this place to stay hidden for a reason, and he wondered if the doors would even open at all. There was another light here, one even brighter than the others, and it illuminated the ground. It was covered in dust and dirt of years, but he could see a few sets of tracks as if someone had come through recently. Yet, even those were covered with a thin layer of old age.

He pondered which door to investigate first before finally deciding on the one to the left. After all, usually the straight way was a continuance, while a side route was a deviance.

Vincent moved towards the average looking door and placed his hand on the cold knob, surprised to find it unlocked and turning easily in his grasp. He opened the door and stepped inside, wincing he was struck with even colder air that carried the faint stench of death and decay. It was not a pleasant odor, and it almost made him turn around completely. Yet, curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed forward, memories once more slapping him in the face. He closed his eyes with the sudden pounding of pain in his head.

When he was able to open them again, he found he was looking at a room that was brightly lit and filled with a few packing crates and, oddly enough, one lone coffin in the far end. There was no dirt or dust anywhere, and the dark-haired man understand that he was more or less experiencing a memory.

The mind worked in the oddest of ways.

--------

There was a man dressed in a long white lab coat and wearing a pair of glasses, idly inspecting some sort of machine as he leaned over a coffin. From his position, Vincent couldn't really see what was inside, so he took several steps forward. He vaguely registered the dirt and ground cracking beneath his feet but was concentrating on the scene before him.

As he moved forward he was surprised to find that there was a man lying in the coffin. He wore dark black clothing and had dark hair. His eyes were closed and Vincent could only assume he was dead… until he caught the subtle rise and fall of the man's chest.

"I see the subjugation spell worked," the bespectacled man tittered, idly pushing up on his glasses as he fiddled with a few more knobs. "Perhaps some time locked in this prison will cool those demons, no?"

Of course his victim did not respond. As Vincent drew closer, he realized with a startled gasp that the man in the coffin was himself. His eyes widened in surprise as the man in the lab coat laughed again before reaching up for the lid of the coffin.

"Sweet nightmares, Valentine." The scientist sneered before he pushed the coffin lid down violently, the loud slam echoing throughout the room and effectively ending the minor vision/memory that Vincent was experiencing.

---------

He blinked and suddenly found himself in the dim, cobwebbed tunnel beneath the mansion, staring at a dark room filled with crates and coffins. His eyes were unconsciously resting on the casket in the center of the room. He recognized the design on the lid as it hung haphazardly, similar to that in his memory. Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the stagnant, chilly air around him, Vincent took a step forward and shoved the coffin lid aside, peering down at the surprisingly empty casket.

It looked and felt vaguely familiar. Whatever had happened in his memory, why he had been placed in the coffin and the talk of demons was all very confusing to him, but he knew to try and push his fragile mind to remember would be too much. He idly ran a hand on the lining of the coffin, surprised to find it felt rather soft to the touch.

Grey eyes looked about the rest of the room, finding nothing else of interest or noteworthy value, so he withdrew his hand and moved out of the room. There was nothing more to be seen in there.

Without hesitation he moved out into the tunnel and headed straight for the other door, reaching immediately for the handle. He frowned when he realized it was locked and would not open for him. He tried rattling the door, seeing if it would break, but unlike the rest of the house, it was actually quite sturdy and nowhere near as dilapidated.

Giving up, Vincent threw his hands up in the air and started back towards the upstairs. He was suddenly feeling very tired, very cold, and very hungry, wanting nothing more than to return to the inn for a night of rest. If he could, he would return in the morning and search for the key. He had a feeling that the answers were right behind him in that room, and as usual, they were eluding his every move.

That night he dreamed. Scattered images that seemed to flit back and forth between periods in his life when he was young, though those were fuzzier than others… and even of his time in Gongaga, brief flashes of the blonde Annalee and of Granny and Gramps sitting around the dining room table.

They always knew he wasn't their son but treated him as such anyways. Granny always had a smile to offer for him and Gramps a satisfied smirk. He reveled in the feeling of family, somehow internally knowing that before he had been alone for a long time.

However, he dreamed of other things, too.

Fractured scenes of a past he couldn't remember haunted every moment of his slumber. He saw himself in battle numerous times, always with a gun at his side. His appearance changed. At times he wore a dark blue suit and was accompanied by another man he did not recognize. Other times he wore a bright crimson cape covering dark black clothes with golden boots on his feet. Those times, his companions changed quite frequently, from a young spiky-headed blond with bright blue eyes to a large red-haired lion type creature, from an amber-eyed man in an executive suit to a Wutaiian looking teen girl, from a dark-headed scantily dressed female and even an auburn-haired woman, who wore pink and wielded a staff.

He also dreamed of blood… so much of it seemingly coating everything. He didn't know why his thoughts were filled with such dark and ominous things but it almost seemed like a warning. He kept seeing thick dark black wings dripping blood and remembered the pain of something bursting through his back. Bright crimson eyes invaded his senses and mocking laughter burst through his subconscious causing him to whimper in sleep. It was like a nightmare come to fruition and it scared him.

He saw needles and light glinting darkly off a metal table and pale hands grabbing onto his flesh, grasping him so tightly it hurt. Green liquid flowed through and above him, leaving nothing but pain and agony in its wake.

Blood-stained claws reached for his very soul, determined to take him, own him forever. He opened his mouth to scream when suddenly a brilliant white and blue light appeared to push away the dark.

He was overwhelmed by the scent, that familiar erotic scent of tea and cigarettes, of engine grease and oil. He could feel those calloused hands on his skin once more and almost thought he could taste the man behind the scent, the one that loved him enough to battle his inner demons.

The voice, rough and gruff, so deep that it literally made him want to quake inside and set his skin and senses on fire spoke his name, the light pushing back all the dark. Hands brushed over his forehead, soothing him and quieting his fears. There was comfort there and love, an emotion so pure it almost seemed he was unworthy of it.

Blue eyes locked deep with his own, eyes like the sky on a bright summer day, only the purest of crystalline azure. He imagined he could see wings behind those eyes and felt as if he were soaring in the air. He didn't understand the metaphor behind that then but somehow knew it was important.

Fingers ghosted over his skin, gentle caresses and touches that awakened a fire deep inside him, and Vincent just knew that he had find this person. He had to find the one man in his dreams, who truly loved him, if only to see if that feeling remained in real life…

Vincent turned once more to gaze on the more or less ghost town that was Nibelheim as he headed out towards the mountains of Nibel. He had been informed that there was a city on the other side of the range called Rocket Town, and for some reason, that name struck a chord within him. Having already transversed most of the continent, he decided that he might as well go on to that town also.

After all, his search in Nibelheim had proved entirely fruitless. After spending a night in the inn and having several disturbing and also pleasant dreams, Vincent had returned to the ShinRa mansion to search for the key to the other door in the basement. He had poked in every box, drawer, carton, and lifted up every loose board he could find. He sifted through dusty crates in the basement, opened the lid of every coffin, and still the key eluded him. He finally gave up after five hours of searching and listening to Erebus make snide comments.

It was then that he ventured over to the bar and heard about Rocket Town where the barkeeper had claimed he was born. He kept telling him that if he told the Captain about "Sammy" that the Captain could find him a job if he wanted one. He politely thanked the man and left from the bar. He had no interest in a job for the moment, his only interests lay in finding out who he was and the man in the dream as well, for that matter.

Grey eyes looked towards the town that was dying little by little each day and at the dilapidated ShinRa mansion still standing resolute against the world. He idly wondered if anyone would ever come to inhabit it again. Vincent still felt that many of the answers he was searching for were there but had conceded that for the moment they were beyond his reach.

He turned his back on Nibelheim and gazed with interest at the mountains in front of him. He had been told it was at least a day's hike through the mountains, so that meant he would appear on the other side somewhere in the early hours of the morning which meant he would have to rest sometime between now and then.

Sighing his head, a bit weary of having walked nearly an entire damn continent in the past week or so, he wasn't sure exactly how long, he headed into the mountains. He idly wondered how long he would have to travel before he found his way again or before he found any sort of answers.

The rain had fallen well through the evening and the night, and the afternoon was stifling as the midday sun worked on the water collected everywhere. He tried to ignore the wet heat that surrounded him but soon found he was sweating beneath his thick, grey cloak.

He heard the crunch of stones seconds before he felt the presence of the demi-god suddenly walking beside him. He was quiet, waiting for Erebus to speak first as he knew the demi-god would.

"On the road again." Erebus sighed, shaking his head as his scythe struck the ground in staccato beside him.

Vincent frowned and glared at his anima. "As you are being as close to useless as one of your ability is able, I don't see how you have a right to complain."

The demi-god chuckled. "I was not complaining, just making an observation. This perpetual wandering, will it ever cease?"

Vincent shrugged. "I am going to find myself… and I'm going to find him."

If he had a brow, Erebus was sure he would have cocked one at that statement. "Him?"

The grey-eyed man ignored the piercing gaze that was being directed at him, instead concentrating on the path before him. "Every night since I've had to leave Gongaga, and sporadically when I was there, I've dreamed of the same man. Whoever I'm going to find him because I know, if anyone knows me, it is that man." His hand clenched into a fist at his words, his own solemn vow.

Erebus shook his head in amazement. "For such short lives… so much passion and strength… everyday you humans surprise me more."

Vincent didn't reply, having nothing to say to that as he continued to put one foot in front of the other, prepared for a long and arduous climb through the Mt. Nibel.

----

Looking forward to your comments!


	20. Ides of War

**Thanks to all those who reviewed!**

**Chapter 20: Ides of War**

"… It appeared out of nowhere. I don't know how to explain it… everything was destroyed, and we tried to run, but it was pointless. The monsters invaded from all sides shooting poisonous gas and burning acid carrying rusted weapons and malicious grins. I'm one of the few to escape…"

"… I've never seen one like it before. It was something out of my worst nightmares. It killed without warning, striking quickly before moving on. A creature so vile that it would destroy even its own comrades should they stand in its way. And yet the whole time I watched it from my hiding hole, I felt as if it were searching for something it could not find…"

"… It was amazing! Here I was thinking my death is at hand, down the gullet of a damn dragon and poof! Like magic! This guy with black hair and a red cloak appears and starts chopping the damn thing to bits. I've never seen anything like it!"

"… They were everywhere! We tried to stop them, but we were far few for so many! One even absorbed my Fire attack and all of our bullets were useless! The spines from their leader exploded violently some even piercing the buildings and easily killing my friends…. (broken sobbing)… and now I'm all alone…."

"… It was the most frightening thing I have ever seen! Those dripping blood-red wings and that cold steel mask that hid all semblance of life… I didn't think I would live the night. Then a creature came out of nowhere, all glowing in green and red, casting a shield over the whole town. We were saved! But our losses were great…"

"… Requesting immediate emergency aid. Many wounded, monsters still in the area. We are unable to defend ourselves…. will all perish soon… supplies short…"

"… He's gone, Reeve. There were too many, and she couldn't handle it. The people, what few remain, had hidden in the caves and most fear to come out. They are tired and hungry, battle worn and smoke-streaked, and still they look to me… look to me for answers I don't have…"

They came, one right after another. His phone lines were constantly lit as calls began to pour in from all corners of the globe. Horror stories of monsters unlike any seen before. Many of the reports were stilted and difficult to be heard with all the communication towers that had been destroyed. Nearly all asked for aid that Reeve simply could not send. Not since he had disbanded most of the ShinRa army when he took over six months prior.

The executive sighed and glanced more at the clock that hovered over the door to his office. Three a.m…. eight hours since he, Seiryu, Archer, and Tiamat had taken down the foul demon that had sought to destroy Midgar and had driven away the hordes of creatures that had accompanied it. Eight hours since he had been able to rest or relax, eat, or even have a moment to himself.

His body ached, his mind was numb, and he felt he was going to collapse at any moment, but still he persisted. He couldn't afford to sleep, there was still far too much to do. Much of Midgar had been destroyed, and there were many wounded. The dead were still lying in the streets, some bodies having not been claimed. They couldn't lie there long otherwise the monsters hovering in the plains outside the city would find their way inwards. Reeve simply did not have the manpower to defend Midgar once more and take care of the aftermath of the battle.

Communication towers were still down everywhere, and the bulk of his force was out trying to hurry and repair them so that communication could at least not be destroyed. There weren't enough potions and cure materia nor people that could use them to go around, and some were dying that could have been saved.

He hadn't heard anything of Cid except for that one brief, angry phone call. Reno was still missing, and the rest of the Turks and Archer were all running around, working just as hard as he to restore some semblance of order to the shocked city of Midgar. Archer was working with the communication forces, his mechanical skills adept at fixing many of the downed towers. Tseng was trying to organize the small contingents in pushing back the small monsters that still seemed to infest the city while Elena was working to find shelter, food, and medial supplies for those that had been supplanted.

War had returned to Gaia. And in greater force than ever before it seemed. Just when the thoughts of peace had started to ingrain themselves within their hearts, fate came crashing down and stole it from them.

And still the calls poured in. Wutai… Cosmo Canyon… Junon… Costa del Sol… all the major cities on Gaia had been attacked and most of them were destroyed.

Junon was little more than a hunk of twisted and burning metal slowly spreading pollution into the surrounding ocean. Survivors and refugees were making their way to Fort Condor, but it was a fair distance. And the monsters that had attacked the coastal town were still tracking them, occasionally picking off the survivors one by one. Junon was no longer a place that could be called home. It would have to be rebuilt from scratch, the minor navy that had been stationed there completely demolished. No one had been able to stand up to the attack from the giant creature that looked remarkably like a Cactuar.

Costa del Sol had fared better than Junon but would still require massive repairs. Cloud's villa had been demolished as had the docks and most of the boats, but in its entirety, most of the town had remained intact. It seemed a few of the towns patrons had bonded together and used a swarm of materia to drive away the minor contingent of monsters that had attacked. Costa del Sol had not been as ruthlessly gone after as the others. In fact, it appeared more of an afterthought, as if a horde of monsters had only stopped there for fun and not planning.

Cosmo Canyon… well, no one really knew what had happened there. He hadn't heard from anyone since Cid's call. All the executive could guess was that the town had been destroyed, some survived and Bugenhagen had died.

And Wutai… reports from the far western town had been inconclusive. He had gotten several different ones, although the defining factor had been that Yuffie's hometown was attacked. There was a demon that led the charge and a large horde of lesser monsters that it commanded. Most of the reports made claim to a 'mysterious savior' but didn't say more than that.

All in all it appeared that every city appeared to have been struck at nearly the same time in a large concentrated assault. Most of the citizens had been caught completely unawares, despite the warning afforded by Gongaga, and more than seventy-five percent of each city attacked was rubble, some faring better than others.

Reeve sighed and resisted the urge to lay his head on his desk by picking up the phone to dial the cargo docks and see how many, if any of the transportation methods survived the attack. It was a miracle that the Neo-ShinRa building had survived completely unscathed. Alexander, or as Aeris called him, Hephaestion, was truly a powerful summon to have protected Midgar so long.

The Holy demi-god had kept up his defense even as Reeve and his friends fought against the demon for little over an hour, finding it difficult to discover the kink in Mabuz' armor, while defending themselves from the slurry of minor enemies that threw themselves in the former AVALANCHE's members way.

The door to his office slammed open, and Archer hurried in, disturbing the executive's train of thought. He looked up and saw the tired, haggard appearance of his friend and gave him a sympathetic nod. The man's arms were full of more reports that he was sifting through even as he slightly stumbled across the floor.

"More transcripts from the radiowaves," explained the amethyst-eyed man as he dumped the papers on the desk. "Most are from Wutai. Still nothing from Cosmo Canyon though. The men got the tower in Sector E up and running, but the soldiers in Sector B are having trouble working and fending off the monsters at the same time. It seems that a small contingent of Dropper Birds have started to harass them. Jennifer mentioned something about the Kalm reports but she was mumbling to herself so I can't really be sure."

Dropper Birds, ugh, nasty little creatures. They weren't very large or fast, but had the uncanny ability to make tiny little bombs from their bodies and 'drop' them on victims below. Hence the name 'Dropper Birds'. They were an unfortunate example of Hojo's mad research.

Reeve sighed and looked at the stack on his desk. It would take him at least three hours to go through those and still at the end he might not know what was going on. Gaia, it seemed, had crumpled while they were all celebrating a minor victory, and he was struggling to hang on.

"And Tifa?" questioned the dark-haired man, although he already knew the answer.

Kyle shook his head, sinking into a chair and allowing his weary body a rest. "Still no word. But he's a Turk Reeve, I'm sure Reno is fine."

The executive tore his gaze away from his friend and looked out the window, amber eyes not missing the destructed state of parts of Midgar or the places where blood still stained the ground and white feathers graced the tops of many roofs. It had been a long, bloody battle. His hands clenched unintentionally as worry again furrowed his brow.

Of everything that he had to deal with, not knowing the fate of his lover was killing him the most. Tifa still hadn't made any contact with them, and the Turks had been unable to discern her location. They knew, from the video, that she was in some type of lab or storage complex but didn't know where. All known vicinities had been checked or scanned, but no life forms were detected. It was as if they had dropped off the face of the planet.

The executive sighed once more and returned his attention to the papers on his desk. The one on the top of the stack was first. He briefly read the header, mumbling to himself so that he didn't miss anything important.

" 0230 hours, approximately seventy percent comprehension rate, lasting twenty minutes, Kalm Report of Damage in Monetary Values from Green Dragon destroyed by mysterious man as translated by…" His eyes trailed off the page as he noticed Archer nearly dozing off in the chair, eyelids sliding over his eyes as he continuously slumped in the chair. The executive shook his head and put down the paper, watching as Kyle slowly slid downwards until he nearly fell off the chair before bursting awake and saving himself from an amusing predicament.

"You need to rest," commented Reeve in a voice that brooked no argument.

Kyle brushed a hand over his eyes, rubbing vigorously before he sat up and shook his head. "No more so than you, partner. If you don't rest, I don't rest."

That was his subtle way of making sure the dark-haired executive allowed himself a reprieve. Yet, so far, it wasn't working and Archer found himself dragging. He hadn't actually slept in near thirty-six hours, and it was beginning to wear him down.

"There's too much for me to…"

"Bullshit!" interrupted the amethyst-eyed man. "There is nothing more you can do right now but wait. Emergency systems have activated, soldiers have been deployed to all their respective places. The reports will still be there in the morning."

Reeve glared at his friend and returned his attention to the paper at hand, idly moving it aside to concentrate on something more mind-grabbing than monetary reports.

"There will be plenty of time for rest later," he grumbled, idly tapping a finger on the paper in front of him. He dared a glance at Archer, who regarded him with half-worry and half-anger.

"Besides," his voice had softened in its tone. "I couldn't sleep anyways as worried as I am about Reno. I'm afraid to close my eyes because of the images my mind always brings to me."

Kyle sighed and stood up, walking towards the window to gaze out at the inky blackness that blanketed much of the city. The power had yet to be restored to all of Midgar.

"I understand. But it isn't going to make finding him any easier if you're barely alive and awake."

Reeve nodded quietly although his friend couldn't see him and returned his attentions to the paper in front of him. It appeared to be another description of the 'mysterious savior' that it seemed all the Wutaian reports were hooked on. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he stood up, grabbing the paper and hurriedly scanning it again. Other papers floated to the floor as he rushed over to Archer's side, amber eyes drinking in the words.

'… Red gem like a garnet… green fur… cutest thing you've ever seen and it cast a shield…translucent and repelled anything… and riding on its back was a man… bright red hair the likes I've not seen in awhile…' The words jumped out at him, all sounding drastically familiar.

Kyle turned around when he heard the desk jump and the papers fall, surprised to see the executive moving towards him with a piece of paper in his hands. "Reeve, what…?" Archer trailed off when he saw the excited look on his friend's tired features.

"Read this," the executive ordered, thrusting the white sheet of 8 x 11 paper into the startled engineer's hands. "Those lines right there!" He pointed to the section he had been reading and stepped back to watch the amethyst-eyed man's reaction.

Archer looked at his friend oddly before returning eyes to the paper and slowly reading aloud, a small grin breaking out on his face as he did so. "We thought all was lost. The monsters were pushing our ranks backwards continuously, and our backs were literally to the wall. My only thoughts were for the safety of those behind us, hidden within the caves and needing our protection. Yet, the sheer volume of monsters was beyond our capabilities to defeat. Then, like an angel from above, our mysterious savior appeared. It was a huge creature, I thought it another monster. It had a red gem like a garnet in its forehead and bright green fur that literally shone with an inner light. Its body shape was similar to that of a rabbit or something else long-eared. It was the cutest thing you've ever seen, and it cast a shield over us, while keening musically." He paused momentarily, eyes flickering over to his friend for a moment and reading the barely restrained excitement in Reeve's amber eyes.

Archer sincerely hoped that it was what it appeared to be as he continued his reading. "The barrier flexed and shone translucent and repelled anything that dared throw itself at it. We were saved. However, most astounding was that riding this beautiful creature's back was a man. He was laughing as he swung what looked to be an Electro Rod at any enemies that dared to attack from the air. He had the bright red hair, the likes of which I've not seen in awhile and brilliant aquamarine eyes. They were like angels from above, and I will never forget the sight… not even on my dying day…" Archer trailed off, looking at his friend.

"It has to be…" whispered the dark-haired executive, as if saying it any louder would make it untrue. "It just has to be. No one else has Carbuncle! And that description, it could only be Carbuncle!"

The paper rattled in Kyle's grasp as he nodded. "You are right. It's him, Reno. He's in Wutai of all places. Though how he got there I can't imagine."

"Then he's still there!" Reeve exclaimed. "I mean, there's no way he could leave just yet. Reports say all transport vehicles in Wutai were demolished in the attack so he MUST be there."

Archer shook his head. "All this time… I just don't understand it. Why would Tifa hide in Wutai?"

"Does it matter?" questioned the executive. He swiped the paper from Archer's grasp and moved back towards the desk, grabbing the phone and quickly punching in some numbers.

"What are you doing?" asked Archer.

Reeve frowned. "Isn't it obvious? I'm checking to see if our communication's improved any. I have to get in contact with Godo and see if he can find Reno and make him stay put."

The amethyst-eyed man nodded in understanding before waving a hand at the executive and heading for the door. "I'll go see if any of our helicopters survived the attack."

Yet, before he could get to the door, the PHS in his pocket rang loudly, the sound startling him. It hadn't rung in quite a while, since most of the towers were down. Frowning, Archer dug into his pocket and pulled out the slim electronic device, noting the name on the screen.

"Archer, here," he answered calmly, putting the speaker up to his ear. The phone crackled with static but at least he could make out the voice and words of the caller. It appeared reception wouldn't be completely clear for a while.

"Kyle, I knew your dumb ass would still be awake," came the voice of one Cid Highwind, rough as usual and full of his habitual 'perkiness'.

Archer sighed. "Cid… we were worried when we didn't hear from you for a while. How goes it in Cosmo Canyon?" He felt eyes on him and looked up to see Reeve giving him a questioning glance. The engineer moved back into the room, plopping back down into the seat he had vacated earlier while Reeve calmly placed the telephone on the receiver and attempted to eavesdrop the conversation.

"Random attacks by new breeds of Chocoboro's for one," intoned the pilot darkly in response. "I don't know who's behind all this or why, but it seems the monsters are either mutating… or something else is going on." The phone crackled noisily then causing the amethyst-eyed man to wince.

"What about casualties and the town?" questioned Archer. "How did the battle seem to fare?"

Cid was silent for a moment as he pondered. "I'd say about sixty percent city loss and only twenty percent population loss. The residents here responded rather remarkably, getting quickly to safety."

"What about Vincent?" Reeve queried. Kyle's eyes shot up to his forehead before he repeated the question to the pilot.

Again there was a moment of silence before the pilot's quiet response came through the PHS. "I don't know. No one's seen him. I haven't found him, and he wasn't among the survivors hiding out or any of the bodies we've drug out for proper burial. One of the townsfolk, the weapon shop owner I believe, claimed she saw a dark-haired man with a gun earlier in the day, and Isis says that she thinks Bugenhagen was talking to a man named Vincent… or more like arguing with him right after the attack began. She seems to believe that Bugenhagen sent him somewhere though she couldn't even begin to guess where."

"Isis?"

"Yeah. The demi-goddess of the sun, or Isis as we knew her, the long forgotten Sphinx materia. Don't ask me to explain it cause I don't know what the hell's going on either. Damn Phoenix appears and reappears next to Nanaki whenever the hell she wants, and Leviathan who's really Barinthus likes to spend time swimming in the ocean in human form," the pilot paused before changing subjects. "Something really weird is going on."

"Yeah," agreed the engineer. "We think so, too. All of this is of course connected. We only have to figure out how." He looked up and saw that Reeve was holding out his hand, curling his fingers in a gesture that asked for him to be given the phone.

Giving him an odd look, Archer handed over the device, momentarily brushing a hand over the back of his tired eyes. Gods, he was getting too old for this…

"Cid? It's Reeve," spoke the president quickly before sitting back down in his chair, idly tapping the transcript that spoke of hope. "I think I've found Reno, how long do you think it will take you in Cosmo Canyon?"

"Eh… I don't know. I don't think I could get Nanaki to leave, so he and Yuffie will probably stay. If I don't sleep I could be there by sunrise…" mumbled the pilot in answer.

Archer's loud-mouthed yawn distracted the executive for a moment, and he had to bite back a small smile. His spirits had remarkably risen, thanks to that small transcript. He had found Reno that was all that had mattered. And the radio operator promised to get the message through to Godo.

"No, get some rest; I am sure we all need it. Just get here as soon as you can, and we can go to Wutai."

"Wutai? What the hell is he doing in Wutai? Stupid dumb ass Turk always wandering off…" muttered the pilot almost jokingly.

"Does it matter?" Reeve asked. "Anyways, go to sleep. We'll be doing the same. See you later."

"Hai," agreed the Captain. The phone buzzed and clicked before going dead in Reeve's hands. The President handed it back to Kyle, who promptly shoved it into his pocket and regarded his former assistant with a critical look.

"The radio operator said that the message will go through to Godo. He also informed me that radio was our best option considering the attack succeeded in destroying all of our meager contingent of helicopters. We'd better get some rest now as we have to wait for Cid anyways," explained the executive.

"Thank the gods!" exclaimed Archer, stretching mildly. "I had a feeling you were going to work until I either knocked you out or you passed out, whichever came first."

Reeve smiled slightly as he gathered up a few papers and grabbed his suit jacket, following after Kyle towards the door. They wouldn't actually go far, only to the small resting rooms just outside his office that had been created so that the over-working President would take a break. It had only couches, but at that point, a blanket on the ground in the Northern continent looked good to both men, their bodies beyond weary.

Just as Archer's hand reached for the door to pull it open. The room began to violently tremble. Frames fell off the walls and crashed to the ground, instantly shattering and the two men struggled to keep on their feet. A sound like that of a million screaming voices rose from nowhere, echoing all around them with the loudness of a sports game and sending the hair on the backs of their necks to full attention.

"What the hell?" gritted out Archer as he clung to the wall while his legs shook beneath him.

Reeve threw himself at the wall, back against it for balance. "Earthquake," he managed to get out.

"In Midgar?" questioned the engineer, eyes instantly darting to the window. He expected at any moment another attack like the one only eight hours before. "And what the hell is that screaming?"

The amber-eyed man closed his eyes and tried to ride out the violent quaking, the sound, and the voices still keening all around him. He recognized it, having heard it several times before… but that was six months prior when he and the rest of AVALANCHE were trying to destroy that monster Sephiroth.

Another violent tremble threw itself at the building before it all abruptly stopped, everything going suddenly silent. Archer had to open his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them as he pried his fingers from around the door knob. He had been clutching it to keep his feet.

"The planet…" huffed Reeve trailing off. "I'd recognize that sound anywhere, though it's been months since I last heard it. The planet is crying…"

-----

In another part of Midgar, Cloud was rocking his trembling wife slowly in his arms as they sat on the bed they shared and was whispering soothing words of nonsense to the Ancient.

Since the earthquake a few seconds before, Aeris had been nearly inconsolable as she wept and muttered quietly in a language that he did not understand. Her hands clutched protectively at her belly, and her head moved from side to side.

Cloud had also heard the planet's cry and knew that Aeris, as an Ancient, could understand what the voices were saying and judging from her reaction, it was not something good or even encouraging. He felt powerless to help her and did the best he could, holding her until the voices stopped pounding in her skull like many pleas of forgotten children.

Ever since the battle many hours before, he had been exceedingly tired. Tseng and he had spent the better part of two hours riding through Midgar and disposing of monsters, while a battle they could only hear and not see raged above them and above a blanket of white feathers that Cloud knew could only belong to Hephaestion.

His arms ached from steering the bike and wielding his enormous sword at the same time, and his head throbbed from casting so many spells at once. He knew that Tseng fared no better although the Turk hadn't had a chance to rest yet. Afterwards, when Cloud took Aeris home from the church, both Elena and Tseng had returned to Neo-ShinRa HQ where they were given immediate tasks to aid the people of Midgar.

"Cloud?" The body in his arms stilled and shifted before the auburn-headed woman turned her face up towards him.

He smiled down at the flower-girl, love shining through his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

She frowned and leaned in against him, placing her head just below his chin, one of her favorite places to cuddle. "The Planet… is afraid."

The blond didn't say anything as he pondered her statement. The last time the Planet had feared was when Sephiroth had invaded its lifestream and Jenova ran rampant. Could that mean that he was back and that their six month peace had been only a reprieve? If that battle in Midgar only eight hours prior had been any indication… his thoughts trailed off.

Aeris clutched at his shirt. "Have you been listening?"

"To what?" questioned the blond, frowning and furrowing his brow in confusion. The sound of distant thunder disturbed his thoughts. Cloud looked at the window, not surprised to see the flash of far off lightning. A storm was approaching it seemed. It was going to rain soon. Not that Cloud minded much; he was actually rather fond of thunderstorms and enjoyed them.

The flower-girl sighed. "Haven't you even wondered why I can call Hephaestion without the materia, or even why I call him that?"

Cloud shrugged his shoulders. "I never really thought about it. I figured it just had something to do with you being an Ancient."

Aeris couldn't help but roll her eyes at her husband's general cluelessness. He never was one for deep and provocative thought. "Why do you keep pretending like you can't hear him? It's not Sephiroth or Jenova. You're not going crazy."

"I don't know what you're talking about," insisted the blond, wrapping his arms around her tighter. "Tell me why the planet's afraid."

The auburn-headed female sighed and decided the issue could wait for another time. "It said that war is coming to Gaia… war that we might not be able to win. And that the inhabitants of this planet are not strong enough on their own to win against the threat that had been building from before Sephiroth."

Cloud frowned. "Then Sephiroth was not our enemy then?"

Aeris shook her head. "No, he was. The immediate threat, yes, but also masking a greater foe, one that we might have realized had it not been for him. It's time that everyone learned of the demi-gods and the war of years past."

"The what?"

"You know of the summons, right? Our red materia? Well, the demi-gods have something to do with them. It is their power that makes the magic in the summon materia work."

"Then why is this one dark?" asked the blond holding up one of his favorite summons, Chimaera. Though not one he had used in the war, having found it weeks later in a mysterious materia cave, he was still rather fond of the winged creature with the head of a lion and body of a serpent. She spat lightning and fire attacks when she was irritated and at times would cast Comet 2 on impeding enemies.

Aeris frowned and sat up on the bed, plucking the red materia from her husband's hand. She rolled the ball around in her hand before shaking her head negatively. "She is no longer there. It's as if Chimaera's withdrawn her powers from the materia and no longer wishes to fight with us."

"You say that as if our summons were free and sentient creatures!"

"They are!" the Ancient insisted. "And if you would just listen to him trying to speak to you, you would understand it, as well!" Her voice was both stern and chastising.

Cloud shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense to me. All this talk of demi-gods and summons and greater foes that we should have known, monsters attacking the cities out of nowhere in more species than I have ever recognized… what happened to peace?" He looked at his wife beseechingly, hand automatically placing itself over on of her own on her belly. "What of the peace that I promised you after the battle was won?"

Aeris smiled softly before kissing him gently on the lips. "As long as i'm with you it doesn't matter if we have to fight or not."

He grabbed her quickly and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. "I won't lose you again…"

She nuzzled against his chest. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm told that I cannot fight this battle. Hephaestion says that I am not needed, another has come to take my place."

"I'm not sure I even want to ponder on what that could mean right now," muttered Cloud.

"Then don't, but even if I am sitting this one out, I still need to tell the others what I know. No one else can speak to the planet like I. They won't understand… no one knows of the ancient ones or the way things once were."

Her husband nodded in understanding. "In the morning. For now, both of us need to get some rest."

"Mmm, agreed," murmured the auburn-headed woman as the two of them laid down and snuggled together. "I love you, Cloud."

"Love you," returned the blond just as readily, kissing her neck lightly as she drifted back into slumber. "Always…"

-----

Looking forward to your comments!


	21. Wolf in the Fold

Thanks to all my reviewers! Your support is greatly appreciated!

**(Voice in Mind)**

**Chapter 21: Wolf in the Fold**

Green light without sound, an ocean of jade strings and whispers, flowing across his formlessness… he hadn't a body anymore. That had been left behind when he had been forced from the world time before hand. Approximately two… if he remembered it correctly.

Everyday of his existence, if that was what it could be called, he relived his memories, his life be it good or bad.

He was floating, a mind without physical form, in an endless sea of emerald, constantly swimming, flying through the massive thoughts and collection of dreams. He was dead… he was alive… he was everything and nothing, and yet… he still dared to hope.

There were lights, so many lights… all around him some sparkling, some fading. Their colors shifted like that of prism from one array of color to the next, a never ending cycle of rainbow bright.

He was at peace. He was restless. He couldn't find it in him to rest; he didn't feel as if he had reason to move on. He was unable to let go, unable to become one with the swirling mass of consciousness that made up the life force of Gaia.

They whispered to him from time to time, words of encouragement, of love and peace. It was that which he was not ready for. He hadn't been given enough time to do anything, live, breathe, taste, smell, experience…. where was his chance? Why was the hero always left without in the end? Hadn't he deserved it?

He saw his mother, she was smiling at him, blue eyes bright and beautiful as always. Even when his birth father ignored her and pushed his wife and son aside, she always had a smile for him, a smile and a cookie. Kami, he loved those cookies. She was the one who had encouraged him, telling him how strong he was, how he could go so far and do so much.

He saw his father, not the one that had sired him, but the real one. The man who had truly loved his mother and he, marrying her even though she already had a child and a failed marriage. The man whose name Zack now carried.

His parents didn't know that he would die at twenty-three, protecting someone who meant something to him as he had always been taught. His company had betrayed him, given him up to the slaughter, given him up to the pain and the tests. He had lived; he had suffered; he had survived, but it tore away at his companion, tore apart the already fragile, beaten psyche of his friend.

He saw Sephiroth, the seemingly cold man who never seemed to care for anyone. He saw himself, trying to befriend the man, wanting to see what he was like beneath the icy exterior, knowing that somewhere behind those fiery jade eyes was a good heart that hadn't been beaten or tortured out of him. It was a feeling that Zack knew very well. Perhaps he had seen a kindred spirit in the silver-haired man.

He saw Sephiroth as he last remembered him, first walking through the flames of Nibelheim, and second in the reactor, having gone insane, claiming his mother was inside… that his mother was that _creature _behind the glass. Zack had become angry after seeing the look of anguish on Cloud's face, though it was hidden behind the face plate and sought after his friend, trying to find what had caused their leader to go mad.

The raving lunatic that slaughtered everyone; the man that swung his sword with widened eyes and a manic sneer… that was not the Sephiroth he knew. His friend had always wanted to know of his parentage, but Zack had never really believed he would go so crazy. He had thought, even when fighting the silver-haired man, that it was not truly Sephiroth he was trying to destroy.

In his minds eye, as he floated in the abyss of gathered ghosts of those long dead, he saw many other events.

Sweet Aeris on the day he had met her when he was stationed in Midgar. Her emerald eyes always looking at him so lovingly, her kind smile that she gave to everyone and seemed to never falter in her happiness. She was the type of woman he could take home to his mother and be proud to have her on his arm. Then she faded as well… he was starting to forget.

Yet, there were other memories, no matter how hard he tried to push them away that stuck with him. Those of his last moments of life on Gaia haunted his very semi-existence. He was a 1st class SOLDIER! He should have been able to protect himself and protect Cloud, as well. The poor boy had suffered intensely at Hojo's hands and needed Zack to watch over him.

He remembered distinctly the sound of the rain as it pattered over the ground. He was trying to run from the soldiers chasing after him, the ones that had been ordered to slay the fleeing experiments. He had to drag Cloud along with him as the kid was still half out of his mind with Mako Poisoning. He was lucky himself to be able to sustain his own sanity.

He recalled the smell on the air and the foreboding tension that strained his muscles and attempted to sink the hope in his heart. He heard the crunch of wheels over gravel as the jeeps caught up with them and listened to the sound of booted feet racing across the ground, trying to catch up to his enhanced speed. If he hadn't had a burden… if he hadn't been so weak…

The smell of gunpowder struck him first, he never understood that. The feeling of being pierced by a dozen tiny knives as his body jerked around like a puppet with no strings hit next. One, two… maybe even three he could have survived. However, the soldiers fired on him with abandon, pumping him so full of bullets he would never even be able to count them all. He felt his body slump slowly to the ground, as if he were moving in slow motion, Cloud falling out of his grasp and onto the dirt, dangerously close to a crevice. He reached with blurry vision, fading light, gasping breaths before he crumpled to the ground.

It was always then that sound caught up to him. He heard the gunshots, the soldier's yells, the sound of the rain beating down on their helmets as he lay on his back, body twitching in his death throes. His mind strangely vacant as he watched the grey clouds above idly passing by, dumping more sky tears on the scene below as if crying for the two men who only wanted to be free… who only wanted to return to their loved ones and go home…

And the memories hit him over and over, a never-ending cycle that he was far too familiar with. For so long he had lamented over his life, how it had ended so abruptly, how he had never gotten the chance to tell any of them….

From his position in the Lifestream, he was able to see what was going on above, through the voices around him and occasionally he was given glimpses. He saw Cloud… his spiky-haired friend had survived and Aeris… he wanted to weep when he saw his former best friend kill the girl he had cared for. Until he heard from the others that she was not to be kept within them long. She still had a chance… thanks to the sacrifice of another.

And so he was forced to watch idly by as the heroes defeated Sephiroth and stopped Meteor, phantasmal fingers itching to hold his blade once more and get out there and help.

"Would you return to the mortal plane?" came the whispered feminine voice, soaring on the threads of fate around him, surrounding his body of thoughts with its presence.

"In an instance," he mumbled in return. "If only given the chance…"

There was a cry, a low murmuring of a thousand voices weeping in pain and sorrow that filled his very soul. He knew the sound, knew it well and every time it imbibed him with guilt and sadness. The planet, that which he was a part of, was crying and he still refused to join….

"Gaia is threatened once more," intoned the mysterious soothing voice, momentarily pushing away the endless cycle of his once life. "And our warrior is unable to fight. She cannot wield the strength that has been given to her and so another must take her place."

"I don't understand," he said, idly noting the brilliant jade green hue of the Lifestream. It never ceased in its movement, constantly gliding through the inner existence of the planet as the balance between life and death, life above and below was carefully maintained.

"Would you go, Wolf Child? Would you fight again, if given the sword? Will you be our conduit?"

He laughed softly a sound that went no further than his own thoughts as he had no corporeal body to laugh with. "What I wouldn't give for one more chance at life…"

"Then go," intoned the voice, ghosting across his memories with a fog and sending him spiraling towards another flow of life, another road of forgotten memories and dreams, experiences and falsehoods. "He will be your guide. Follow your anima, Wolf Child."

Without another word, or any warning of any type, it felt as if he were suddenly jerked by something tangible and pulled, his consciousness straining towards up… if indeed there was such a thing as up in the boundless collection of spirit energy and thought. A low voice rumbled in his ear, words he didn't understand, but he listened intently anyways. His memories pounded against his soul even as the hands of those that wanted his presence clawed at him begging him to stay.

Then suddenly he started to /fee/ as if he truly had a body again. Tingling sensations all over and an odd sensation of everything coalescing, the green Lifestream forming around his body creating muscles and tissue and blood, form a face and hair and bringing him back to a semblance of his normal self.

And then he started to hurt… as if someone was pinching him over and over at the same time that they pierced his body with dozens of needles and knives. Feeling returned to his limbs, his skin… and it felt like he was on fire all over. He opened his mouth to scream, but it filled with gulps of the emerald liquid; he choked but couldn't do anything. Couldn't open his eyes, couldn't breathe… couldn't feel anything but pain… oh, Kami the pain.

And suddenly he felt light on his face, washing over him with warmth and soothing motions trying to quell the rising tremors of ache that was in him. He felt a tug on his arm seconds before he burst above the water, feeling for the first time in years the breath of air and wind over his face. His eyes snapped open, burning as the mako touched his pupils, and he coughed violently trying to expel the acidic liquid from his lungs.

His hands grasped for something to hold on to as he floundered in the mako pool trying desperately to seek land before he found himself back a part of the Lifestream he had tried so hard to leave. He couldn't stop coughing as more and more of the vile liquid came out of him, and his vision danced with stars from lack of air and dizziness.

His probing fingers felt the smallest traces of dirt, it clumped under his fingernails, and he dug in, determined to pull his heaving and throbbing body ashore. His body was weak… so weak… it was as if he had been running forever and getting nowhere. He hardly had to the strength to haul himself up out of the mako pool and onto dry land, his feet still somewhat dangling in the emerald abyss.

Zack collapsed against the dry and dusty dirt, mind reeling and managed to move another few inches to drag his feet out before he started to retch, over and over. First coughing to clear his lungs, now retching to clear his stomach. He doubled over with pain and it seemed like it would never end as gouts of the fiery liquid expelled itself from his body and he continued to lie naked and shivering on the shore of the mako pool.

Finally, it seemed that the bouts of sickness were through, and he was able to move a few feet from where he had vomited so disgustingly before he collapsed back against the ground. His body continued to shake, but whether from the cold or the mako, he just couldn't be sure. Pain was still flickering on the edges of his unconscious but he didn't care. Only one thought centered on his mind.

Only one realization was important as he slipped unconscious, mind spinning before collapsing.

He had returned to Gaia.

----

He dreamed he was a wolf. Graceful creature of stealth and strength, flitting through the forest on silent feet, determined hunter….

He could feel the forest beneath him, around him and taste the scent of his prey on his lupine tongue. He was the purest silver, the stormy grey; his eyes still that crystalline clear azure. He was strong; he was fast, and he was lord of his domain, Lord of the Forest. The images were hazy and blended, a unique mix of dark pastel colors like paintings he had never really enjoyed properly before.

And then, another wolf was running beside him, easily keeping up with his fast pace. It was beautiful with smoky black fur tinted with the silver of age but nonetheless inspiring. The other wolf moved fluidly, far more so than Zack in his lupine form was able.

He glanced over and was trapped within brown eyes, so pure like soil after the rain or a newly turned field. Their depths seemed boundless, and it felt like he was staring into time as the aged wolf saw it… just a blink and a moment.

And then the words came although they continued to run.

"I am called Fenrir by the humans, though I've a name much older," spoke the wolf though his mouth did not move. "If you listen closely enough you can hear the forest whisper my name."

Zack was in awe of the creature, whose very aura seemed to over take him. "Why have you spoken to me?"

"Because you and I are connected, young one. You and I were fated to fight together for the sake of Gaia."

He flew past more trees, everything a green and brown blur of life and time. The fresh scent of pine and that of his prey, a prey he didn't know, filled his senses. He blinked, finding it hard to concentrate on the words of the wolf that bounded beside him.

"The Lifestream… the voices… they called me Wolf Child…"

Fenrir blinked in response, putting on a burst of speed as he pulled ahead of the grey wolf. "Hai, and if you listen, if you put aside your thoughts and just feel… you will know who I truly am."

"True self?" murmured Zack more to himself than anyone else.

"Learn my name," intoned the darker wolf. "And gain the power…" With that spoken, Fenrir sped ahead of Zack, moving so fast that he only saw a blur of motion speeding through the trees, and it wasn't long before he was alone yet again, running on his own with a seemingly endless reserve of strength.

The wind whispered through the trees around him as his clawed feet softly treaded upon the light earth. Somewhere, a brook babbled on continuously, the soft sounds of water splashing against a low bank easily carried to his ears. He could make out birds singing in the trees and even the oh-so quiet scratch of insects in the ground.

Every part of him began to stand out, from the way his muscles pulled to force himself to run… to the beating of his heart in his chest and the slight panting of his breath from his lungs. It was then that he began to hear it, just so faintly that it barely poked at his conscious.

The demi-god of the land and forest… one so ancient that even the forest had nearly forgotten his name but now chanted it for the sake of his animus.

"Heimdal…" whispered Zack, the name rolling from his mouth almost worshipful.

Everything began to fade with revelation as his running lupine form approached a shining white and gold light, flashing him with its brilliance. The forest of green trees and life disappeared until he was running on nothingness, heading towards the endless abyss of white light… falling…

---

He awoke to find strange suntanned faces staring down at him, one even poking and prodding him with a stick. He closed his eyes against the sudden intrusion of very bright sunlight on his sensitive eyes as he mentally took a recap of his body. His mouth was parched, his tongue feeling like sandpaper, and his lips were chapped, possibly bleeding. His entire body ached from head to toe as if he had been put through a rock grinder, and he felt somewhat sticky as if the mako still clung to his body. The sun felt hot against his skin and realized, somewhat belatedly, that he was also completely nude, lying on the ground in front of the strange people.

Something poked him again, and his eyes opened to glare angrily at the poker. It was a child, no older than eight, regarding him with cool yet strange striped eyes, both green and blue in alternating bands striking out from the iris. The child – female he guessed – grinned at him cheekily, revealing a row of even child teeth before stepping backwards, a hand landing on its shoulder.

Zack groaned and struggled to sit up, trying to hide his most sensitive areas as he did so. He felt a shadow fall on his back moments before a rather soft blanket fell over his shoulders and around his body acting as a quite effective covering. He accepted it gratefully, wrapping the azure cloth around his body as well he could before attempting to stand to his feet, noticing how strangely weak his body felt as his knees wobbled and buckled.

He probably would have fallen to the ground had not another of the strangers offered out an arm and gave him something to halfway lean on.

Now sufficiently covered and feeling slightly more coherent, Zack allowed his eyes to wander about him. There were probably about six of them gathered around, all the same dusky complexion and the same banded eyes though the colors did vary. They were dressed rather lightly, and primitively for that matter, in loose tunics and trousers cut above the knees, even the few women that he saw. They also regarded him strangely.

Zack was about to speak when the man in front of him frowned and opened his mouth. "We thought you were dead." His voice was crisp and surprisingly proper. Judging from their looks, he half expected them to be unable to speak his language.

"So did I," Zack joked, quickly falling into his usual personality. It made things easier that way. "Where am I?"

The man, who seemed to be older than all those around, waved a hand at the area. "An island south of the Midgarian mainland but north of Mideel. How did you survive the Lifestream?"

The dark-haired man pondered how he was going to answer that question when another wave of dizziness struck him, and he faltered in his stance, leaning more heavily on the person who had offered him support. Apparently, he was not as strong as he had initially thought and coming from the Lifestream had weakened him immensely. Not to mention he desperately wanted something to drink and was really craving food, like the kind he could no longer eat after he had died.

"Forgive me, I didn't realize how much you needed rest," commented the older man with a slight frown and furrowed brow. "You can come back to our village. We will be glad to help you."

Zack nodded, trying hard to swallow though he felt like his throat wanted to close up. "Thank you …. for helping… a stranger…"

However, the older man with eyes banded of gold and green merely nodded in understanding and turned, heading into the forest surrounding the strange mako pool from which Zack had emerged. The dark-haired man followed after, his weak body being supported by another strange local, albeit a younger, more muscular one.

---

Over the next couple days, Zack was tended to by the strange locals as he was nursed back to health, his body and strength needing time to recover from the strange ascension from the Lifestream.

He eventually learned that the man who had led the group that originally found him was named Rikan, and he was actually the patriarch of the small group of natives that were living on the island. They called themselves the Jissus 1 and explained that they had been living a quiet life on the island as a small group for longer than they were capable of remembering. Zack had never heard of them before.

Every member of the Jissus had the same brown skin and banded eyes though the colors varied from one person to the next. They lived simply, taking from the land and giving back in return, never was anything wasted or thrown away unless all use had been stripped from it. They gave thanks to animals they hunted for food and treated the land with grace and dignity. He was awed at their choice of living, having never seen anyone behave in that matter before.

They had found clothes for him, items more suitable for his way of life than theirs. He wasn't sure how they had found the loose black pants, heavy black boots and loose blue shirt for him to wear, but he didn't feel it was his right to pry.

They were all surprisingly friendly, willing to share whatever it was they had, whether it be a piece of maza bread or a spot by the fire. He was perfectly willing to help out, as well, once he had regained his strength. Chopping wood helped him restore some of his arm movement and helping the hunters using only a spear aided him in remembering some of his old moves.

After what seemed to be two days, however, Zack became restless. He hadn't forgotten the words of the voices in the Lifestream, or his purpose for returning to life. Not to mention he still felt a presence at the back of his mind, nudging him towards something. However, he wasn't quite sure what that was.

It wasn't until the dawn of the third day that Zack heard the voice. He had gotten up early and wandered into the forest to think, plopping himself down on a log and sighing with a bored expression. He had wondered why the Planet had chosen him as their conduit, why he had been given the chance, not that he wasn't grateful. But still, there were many things he didn't understand about that particular conversation.

(You humans never cease to surprise me. Always thinking, always desiring to be in motion, like you realize just how short your lives truly are and struggle to make it mean something,) came a voice suddenly in his head. It wasn't mocking or condescending, just simply stating a thought with almost a hint of wonder.

Zack frowned. "I recognize your voice from my dream. I only hope I'm not losing my fool mind."

There was a dry chuckle that was a bit infectious, causing the dark-haired man's mouth to turn up at the corners. (I assure you that your mind is intact. Until you call my true name, I won't be able to manifest myself in you because unfortunately you are not in mortal peril.)

"If I remember correctly, you called yourself Fenrir, but the forest whispered Heimdal…"

"That is absolutely right," came a voice from directly behind him. Zack leapt to his feet and turned around, somewhat surprised to find a man standing there with a half bemused expression on his face.

This man had deep brown eyes, like the bark of the trees in the forest around him and deep black hair streaked with silver at the temples and roots, giving him the effect of being aged, though his rather youthful face was a bit contradictory. He wore clothes similar to that worn by the Jissus although his pants were longer and ended at bare feet. The man had his arms crossed in front of his chest and was regarding Zack with the same expression that the crystalline-eyed man was sure was on his own face.

"So which should I call you then?" questioned the dark-haired man, quirking an eyebrow as he assumed this was Fenrir/Heimdal "manifested". After all, he didn't get into SOLDIER on skill alone. He had a brain up there, as well.

The brown-eyed man waved a hand of indifference. "Whatever makes you comfortable. I've lived longer than you can think. I'm not about to cause a fuss over my name."

Zack grinned. "Okay then, Fenrir, why are you suddenly appearing in my head, speaking to me, and materializing out of thin air?"

Fenrir cocked an eyebrow. "Convinced you're still losing your mind?" questioned the tanned man as he moved past Zack to sit on the log, finding a comfortable position.

"Call me insanely curious? At least, if I'm hallucinating then I can provide the doctor with a semi-scientific response," remarked the swordsman with a grin as he folded his arms over his chest.

Fenrir laughed at that, full-bodied and carefree. "I am your anima and a demi-god of the earth and forest, much like those things you consider summons. In fact, I am a summon. However, that doesn't matter because you aren't the one that has the materia that holds part of my power. It used to belong to this one human, who gave it to this big dark-skinned man, who in turn gave it to this amber-eyed, intelligent man, who in turn handed it over to a blond woman. Apparently, I am very popular."

Zack laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Anima? I think I remember the Lifestream using that term."

Fenrir shook his head. "That, my animus, is a long story, one which I don't care to relate. Suffice it to say, we are matched for strength to fight together in the upcoming war in Gaia. It has already begun, and the warriors are being summoned."

The spiky dark-haired man sighed and pursed his lips, looking upwards at the sky. "Will it ever end? Doesn't this Planet deserve peace?"

"Should its inhabitants learn to get along? Perhaps… but most likely never… Man cannot survive in a time of peace, he becomes restless. He would create conflict if only not to feel settled and subdued."

"Wow." Zack shook his head, momentarily pausing. "You're really deep there. Been studying humans long?"

Fenrir shrugged. "Are you ready to get off this island?"

"Got an idea of how I'm going to do that? Cause I certainly am not going to swim to the mainland," said Zack.

The demi-god laughed. "You think I have only this form? Besides, I have magic, too, you know. A simple transport spell, and I can take you anywhere in a matter of seconds."

The dark-haired man appeared to think on that for a second. "Where should I go?"

"Might I suggest acquiring a weapon and some armor before you go charging into battle?"

Zack nodded. "Might as well go to Midgar then. I don't know what has changed in the years since I've been gone, but I know I can find information there."

"Alright then. Want to say goodbye to your caretakers?"

"They know I'm grateful. Besides, I have the feeling that they already know part of what is going on, at least perhaps, more than I know myself."

Fenrir chuckled. "Very well, Midgar it is then." He brought up a hand and furrowed his brow in concentration, moving forward and placing it on the Zack's shoulder. "Migro!"

And just like that, the two men vanished in a ball of light, and the forest stood empty, almost as if they had never been there at all.

1 This name is copyrighted and a term I use in my own original fiction, The Mimickers, which can be found on my home page if you are interested in taking a look at it. However, not all of it is posted for now, just the prologue. If there is interest, I will post more. It is not yaoi unfortunately but the characters are slashable. ; )

Also, keep in mind that the events in this chapter take place over the span of a few days, so there may be some time before he appears again because when I write the other characters, they will probably pick up from when I left off, which was about two days prior to the end of this chapter.

---

Heh, heh, kind of funny, but I just can't seem to keep these characters dead. But don't worry… there's a reason for everything, and it's not just for kicks. Some of this is also leading into some of the sequels, setting up the stage for that.


	22. Taking Over Me

Thank you my reviewers!

Inspired by Evanescence's, "Taking Over Me" and Cid's Theme from the FF7 soundtrack. I borrowed some lines to strengthen the tone of this chapter.

**_Flashback_ **

**Chapter 22: Taking Over Me**

Cid sighed once more as he moved through the hallways of the airship Highwind, heading for the Captain's Quarters. His whole body ached with weariness, and his mind was nearly shattered with the trials of what had occurred over the past few days.

After leaving Cosmo Canyon in the capable hands of Yuffie and Nanaki, he had known they wouldn't come, he had picked up Reeve and Archer in Midgar; the airship was now on its way to Wutai. Apparently, the executive had received some information that Reno was there. Cid was glad for Reeve, glad that he could find his lover and stop worrying. However, he was also insanely jealous; it just wasn't fair in his mind. He'd been searching for months…

Cid shook his head, trying to clear away his angry thoughts, knowing it would do no good to be mad at Reeve. The executive couldn't help that it was much easier to find a red-haired Turk that had been kidnapped as opposed to a dark-haired ex-Turk that had fallen – it seemed – into the very pits of hell itself.

The pilot yawned, his mouth opening wide and stretching at his face as his stomach growled at him angrily. He had already decided that he would use the four hour flight to get some rest, even if he couldn't sleep, lying down would do him some good. He also knew that he should eat but didn't feel like stumbling to the mess hall to eat. Food just wasn't important anymore…

The pilot wasn't a stupid man. He knew that he had been spiraling downwards for the past six months. He just simply hadn't cared enough to continue living. Finding Vincent had absorbed him, took over his life until there was nothing left in him but the drive to find the ex-Turk.

His chain smoking had gotten beyond the barriers of ridiculous, and his alcohol tolerance was so high, that his blood was probably starting to think it was supposed to have scotch in it. He didn't sleep at night… he didn't sleep during the day… more or less living his lonely life as a zombie.

And to come so close, over and over again to finding his lover, it pissed him off but also saddened and stretched his already thinning hope. First, there was the fake, the one that claimed he had information just to extort some money out of him. Then, unbeknownst to him, Vincent's claw had washed up on the beach, and he had been left out of the loop for five and a half months. Then the mysterious call from Bugenhagen, which also ended fruitlessly as by the time he got to Cosmo Canyon, the place was destroyed. Every time it was like someone was kicking him while he was down and delighting in his misery.

Vincent was… is… the only man that Cid had ever felt that strongly before. He had dated plenty in his younger days; he was actually quite a charmer before he met Archer and knew how to woo any who came his way. He had quite a few crushes… plenty of lusts… but never any loves.

Until Kyle came along. He fell head over heels for the older man, who was like a mentor to him. Though only two years older than him, Kyle was very much his superior when they had met at ShinRa. Cid had been sent to study under him to learn about building engines for his rocket designs. Even then he had dreamed of the sky and the stars… even then…

They were together for some time, everyday like pure bliss to the pilot. He had thought he was in love, believed it whole heartedly. Archer was the man he looked up to, the man who taught him everything there was to know about engines. He could easily make him laugh, and well, Kyle was fucking beautiful, too. It wasn't a difficult task for him to become trapped within that amethyst gaze.

Then the chance of a lifetime fell right into his lap, everything he had ever dreamed… ShinRa offered it to him. They had heard of his interest in space, seen his layouts for the rocket design, knew of his skill as a pilot, and were interested in starting a space program, and they wanted him to head it. It was his opportunity to see the stars… his one chance to have his lifelong goal come to fruition. He accepted, of course he would accept; he would be a fool not to, but in the end, it was his dreams that ended the relationship that he thought would last forever.

They planned to build a town on the other side of the Nibel Mountains where the population was sparse, that way they would have plenty of room to expand if need be. However, that town was far from Midgar, on the other side of the world. There was no way Cid was going to pass up on that chance.

In the end, he had been made to choose in a way between his lover and his dream. They had argued and fought, and in the end… Kyle had left, walking right out of his life as if none of it had mattered at all. Cid headed for Rocket Town, met an annoying engineer named Shera, who followed him around like a lost puppy, and Kyle… he never saw him again… until recently.

He had had relationships since then, even a brief stint where he attempted to date Shera. He kissed her once and that was the last time he would try that. If he had ever wanted to know what it would be like to kiss his sister, not that he had one, Shera had given him the opportunity. Afterwards, he apologized and started treating her as he had before. She didn't seem to mind and eventually, she met Rude…

He hadn't dated at all for almost a year by the time he had met Vincent, becoming almost content with his bachelorhood. Shera cooked and cleaned for him, so why did he need a lover or – Kami help him – a wife? He was beginning to believe that he would be a happy chain-smoking, cursing bachelor for the rest of his life.

Then he met Vincent Valentine, and his whole world turned upside down. From first sight he had thought that the ex-Turk was beautiful, despite his somewhat icy and held back exterior. He didn't understand why everybody seemed to shy away from Vincent. Sure, he was a bit moody and didn't talk much, but scary vampire, Valentine was not.

The pilot sighed as he found himself outside his room and dug into his pocket for the key to his room. He wasn't sure why he bothered to lock it anymore. Pulling the small key out, he quickly unlocked the door and stepped into his room. It was messy, as usual. He couldn't find it in himself to actually go clean it or pick up after himself anymore. He didn't figure it actually mattered.

Cid threw his key onto the nightstand, followed by his gloves, all items out of his pockets, including his cigarettes so that they wouldn't be crushed. Stripping down to his undershirt and some pale blue boxers, he stretched mildly before deciding it was time for a much needed nap, if indeed his mind would allow him to sleep.

The pilot lowered himself down to the bed with a sigh and crawled beneath the covers trying to get as comfortable as possible. He closed his eyes and tried to make his mind completely blank but couldn't get the ex-Turk out of it. There had to have been some truth behind Bugenhagen's words. The elder man was too wise for him to have been mistaken. Cid believed whole heartedly that Vincent had been in Cosmo Canyon, and if Isis was to be believed, then the ex-Turk was now somewhere in Gaia, only making the pilot's task that much more difficult.

He choked, trying to hold back the flood of tears that were threatening to consume him. It was always like that, late at night, when the lights were off, the room was silent, and there was nothing left for him to do but think. He laid in an empty bed that smelled only of himself, that was always so cold on the other side, though even then it hadn't always stayed warm and couldn't do anything but /remember/.

He believed in Vincent, however. Would give up anything and everything just to find him… because he had to be with him if he wanted to live or breathe; his life, his love, had been completely claimed by the gunman.

It was the memories that got him. It was the images and the sounds and the smells that triggered every crack in his heart to pulse and pound repeatedly, pushing a little harder to break him down. He tried to fight the tears; he tried to swallow down the pain and the agony of loss, continuing to convince himself he would find the ex-Turk. Yet, even his own unfailing belief that the dark-haired man was alive couldn't defeat the ache in his heart and in his empty arms.

Rolling over in the bed, he pushed his face down into the covers to try and quell the images that pushed at his brain… the memories that were so strong… the memories he associated with his own bed, his own room… Of the last time they had been together, of that one moment of brief trust that meant more to him then all the times they had been together before combined.

_After dragging them to the pilot's room and attacking him with his mouth, Cid knew immediately what it was the Turk had wanted. However, the pilot wanted things to be different, so when given the chance, he broke off the kiss and ran a hand through the ex-Turk's beautiful raven tresses and looked into his eyes. He recognized the lust, knowing it probably mirrored his own, but it was also the faint hint of something more… something meaningful that made him certain he was doing the right thing._

_"Let me… show you what it is to be human," the Captain said softly, rubbing a calloused thumb over the gunman's soft cheek._

_Vincent's eyes narrowed for a moment. "I already told you-"_

_Cid shook his head, interrupting whatever reason he knew was going to come out of Vincent's mouth. "You're the same size as me, Vince; I don't want to hear that bullshit excuse anymore. I understand now… even if you didn't… and all I ask is that you trust me to make you feel good. You once came to me with the same offer to make the pain go away… why can't I do the same?"_

_The gunman frowned and made as if to pull away, but Cid's arms were tightly locked around him. The pilot wasn't going to let go until he had an answer._

_"Trust… I trust you, Cid, perhaps more than is safe for me… but" He paused for a moment. The pilot could almost hear the protestations going on in the ex-Turk's mind. "You ask for too much," he_ _murmured softly, looking away since he couldn't leave._

_However, Cid was not going to back down this time. He gently grasped the gunman's head and turned Vincent to face him once more. He claimed the ex-Turk's lips in a passionate kiss, trying to input all his desire and feelings into that one sensual kiss. He pressed against him, carefully nibbling on the bottom lip before slowly slipping his tongue inside, tasting, teasing, exploring the wet cavern._

_"Let me show you how it's supposed to be," Cid whispered softly, trapping a crimson-eyed gaze with his own. He couldn't help but run a thumb over the cheek. "Before that chance is taken away." The unspoken words hung heavy on the air… the truth that in six days… there might not be a future._

_Vincent sighed and closed his eyes, trying to fight down the apprehension that was building up within him. He leaned his head forward and_ _buried his face in the pilot's neck, and Cid sighed internally, hoping that they could forever stay that way. He had fallen head over heels for the ex-Turk and knew there was no other simple way to put things._

_"… I will trust you," the gunman conceded. A grin spread across Cid's face at the dark-haired man's words._

_"I promise… I will be gentle," he soothed in a low sensual voice._

_Vincent looked up, and their eyes met, sky blue being trapped within a crimson moon. _

_It was so easy to love him… so easy to want to bring him joy that it almost scared Cid. Had it been so simple before, and he never noticed?_

_It was always something that melted him on the inside, to see the dark-haired man allow himself such a blatant display of emotion, that one tear doing more to melt his heart than anything else._

_The ex-Turk melted beneath him, giving in to Cid's tender embrace. Slowly, the pilot began to thrust further into the gunman, while the dark-haired man clung to him like a lifeline. He felt needed, wanted… desired and loved with just that simple touch._

_Vincent was so beautiful and everything that Cid had wanted. Holding him close, murmuring his name as they made love. That very act of trust being the thing that would forever bind Cid to Vincent. He knew now that there was no way he could ever be the same again. He had been remade, reforged into something entirely different. A brash pilot had been made to love, and he wouldn't trade that feeling for anything in the world._

_Cid lost himself in the emotion, he lost himself in the feeling as he slowly and carefully brought the gunman the pleasure he had been denied long ago. And when Vincent came, crying out his name and sounding so very… passionate, something within him melted completely. He wanted to cry sheer tears of joy, and he wanted to scream his love for the Turk._

_As it were he could only scream incoherently, the sound enough to bring him over the edge until he collapsed in Vincent's arms, wrapping his own around the gunman so tight he didn't ever want to let go._

_He loved him; there was no other way to be about it. He was hopelessly and forever addicted to the gunman, his heart and mind belonging only to Vincent, and he would never be the same again._

Cid choked again, biting back the tears that were threatening to well up as he relieved his most precious memory, of the last time he had held Vincent like that. Of the last time he had been able to kiss the ex-Turk in such a way… and his last chance to tell him that he loved him.

Dammit! That was the part that hurt most of all. That was the part that burned a hole in his chest that only increased everyday that sat a weight on his lungs, daring him to breathe… that caused him to be a man who could barely restrain his tears.

The ex-Turk didn't know… he did not know that Cid loved him. He had not been given the chance to say it, though he'd wanted to scream it aloud to the world and swing a spear at anyone who dared look at the gunman wrong. No matter how he tried, Vincent would not allow him, as if he were afraid of the words and what they might imply.

Cid turned over and buried his face in the pillow, if only to hide from the pain that was forcing its way through his body. Slow close… and yet so far. He couldn't help but wonder what he would say to his lover should he find Vincent. If Bugenhagen was right, then the gunman wouldn't remember him. If so, then he wouldn't be able to hold him or kiss him or even declare who he was. Cid didn't even know if he could handle looking into those eyes and not seeing recognition in return.

Would it lead to him just mourning his love for the rest of his life, with Vincent so close yet far from his reach?

The pilot closed his eyes and tried to forget that fear. All that mattered was getting Vincent back in his arms. Anything else would be overcome at another time.

Sleep… was such a distant action for him. No matter how hard he tried, he could think of nothing but Vincent… his mind wouldn't rest. It was as if there were some other force out there trying to remind him of his goal, of his love, not that he needed the help.

Shoulders shaking, as he no longer bothered to restrain the tears, Cid Highwind buried his face in the soft cotton and cried himself to sleep as he had so many nights before…

---

For the X-Rated version, check out or my site. Thanks!

Kind of a short chapter, but that's okay. It's just a peek into the source of Cid. Poor pilot, he needs a hug bad… I think it's about time I got those two back together. Cid's suffered enough… poor boy… sigh


	23. On Both Sides

Thanks to all my reviewers!

(Voice in Head)

'Speaking Internally'

**Chapter 23: On Both Sides**

Archer sat back in his chair in the common room and took another sip of his Café Mocha as he placidly watched his best friend pace back and forth across the floor. They had been traveling for awhile now and probably had at least thirty minutes before they would get to Wutai, but that didn't stop Reeve from continuously worrying and fretting.

With communications towers destroyed around the world, the executive's phone was useless in his hands, and there was nothing he could do to reach Reno more than he was already doing. He hoped and prayed that the red-haired Turk would still be there when they arrived. Reeve wasn't sure what he would say or what he would do… didn't have time to ponder that. All he knew positively was that he loved Reno, and there was no way he was going to allow him to run away again.

"Cid will be seriously pissed if you wear a hole through his floor," Archer commented calmly as his hand twitched on the table. He suddenly wished desperately for a cigarette, even though he had given up the habit a year or so before. Now would have been a good time to revive dying habits after all.

Reeve's head shot up and he glared heatedly at the amethyst-eyed man, though he didn't stop in his pacing, worry lines etched into his forehead. He had already taken off his jacket, having slung it across the back of one of the chairs, and had even rolled up his sleeves on his arms and loosened his tie. The executive managed to look younger having shed most of the confining garments. His coffee, so graciously bought by Kyle, lay untouched and steaming on the table. Probably a good thing… it didn't seem as if Reeve needed any more caffeine.

"I believe Cid would understand given the situation," responded the amber-eyed man flatly.

Archer sighed heavily and looked at the executive. They had been friends for a long time… nearly five years. Almost as long as Cid and he had been apart. Kyle had been a brilliant designer in his own right, and ShinRa always knew when to recognize potential. They snapped him up right out of school and set him to work under Reeve in Urban Planning. Together, the two of them had designed many worthy projects, including one that was now forgotten in some archive for a city that would have been even better than Midgar had ever been.

Still, after all those years, Archer sometimes found that Reeve's eccentricities were a bit annoying. The executive tended to take all blame and responsibility upon himself, even when it wasn't necessary, and he was blind at times to anything that wasn't right in front of his eyes. Thus, the cause of the reason they were now flying halfway across the world a day after all the major cities on Gaia had been attacked.

"Well you are certainly not doing yourself any good pacing like that," Archer responded evenly. "He'll be there."

(Seiryu's other is a bit high strung,) commented a familiar voice within the engineer's head.

He nodded idly in response. "Aye, that he is."

Reeve stopped his rapid pacing abruptly and stood staring, his head cocked to the side. He often did that when talking to Seiryu, as if the motion of his head really affected the telepathic conversation.

(Would it interest you to know he is safe and alive in Wutai?) the silver dragon questioned within the executive's mind.

Amber eyes widened. "You know this? How?"

Seiryu chuckled, still managing to lisp somewhat as he had when he manifested in physical form. (Where do you think I exist, my animus? On Gaia? Somewhere secreted away, perhaps?)

Reeve had to fight down the flush of embarrassment. "I never thought about it…"

(The red-head has an anima. We have spoken. He is concerned for your safety and does not yet know that you are coming to Wutai. I told Asclepius to make him remain but not explain why.)

The executive made his way to his chair and sat, wrapping a hand around his cooling coffee and ignoring the bemused looks Archer kept sending his direction. Reeve pursed his lips as he continued his conversation with Seiryu.

"Where do you exist then?" questioned the executive.

The silver dragon chuckled. (All will be revealed soon, my animus.)

"Figures," Reeve muttered. "No one wants to answer my questions."

Archer cocked an eyebrow at his friend. "Problems?"

The executive shrugged. "You know how immortal beings are… They must speak in riddles that make absolutely no sense until /after/ everything happens." He peered into his coffee cup skeptically before taking a hesitant drink, for the moment satisfied with what Archer had chosen for him. "Do you think I did the right thing?"

"What do you mean?" Kyle asked as he stretched and yawned, feeling generally tired. The past few days had been anything but relaxing, and the engineer was beginning to feel as if he had been wound too tight or stretched to thin. He could only be so laidback, and it seemed as if that aspect of his personality was going to rebel. And Reeve, though he was his best friend, was seriously starting to raise his stress level.

The executive ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "Left Midgar… I mean with everything in the state in it's in… was it wrong for me to leave for personal reasons?"

Archer sighed. Leave it to Reeve to worry about something like that. He spent far much time worry about others and none about himself… or the ones he really cared about.

"I think Jennifer, Tseng, and Elena can handle it. Tseng's been with ShinRa a long time, and Jennifer's been your secretary for the past six months. Besides, Reno deserves this… if you haven't noticed; things haven't been well between you two."

"Which is why he left in the first place," muttered Reeve exhaling softly. He shook his head, berating himself internally as he laid his head down on the table.

Suddenly, Archer grinned. "Speaking of which… is Jennifer single?"

Reeve looked up, surprise registered on his face as he furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"

"Jennifer… does she have a significant other?" the amethyst-eyed man queried. He idly tapped his coffee cup on the table as he grinned and settled back comfortably in his chair. "It's been awhile since I've been on a date…"

The executive gaped at his friend. "But… what?"

Archer shook his head. "You thought I was going to make a play for Cid, didn't you?"

Reeve raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee again, for the moment, all thoughts of his inefficiencies forgotten. "The thought had crossed my mind… as I'm sure it has for many of the others."

Kyle sighed as he ran an irritated hand through his hair, fingers nearly tangling in the tie for his small ponytail. "Geez Reeve, I thought you of all people would know me better."

Reeve could only shake his head and laugh quietly into his cup. He mused for a moment before he spoke again. "So… you gonna give women a try again, then?"

"You already knew I played for both teams, Reeve, don't go pretending it's new news," responded Archer dryly.

The executive laughed quietly and tapped his fingers against the table as he contemplated his friend's earlier question. "I don't really know anything about my secretary to be honest, but if her flaunting is any indication, I'd say she was single."

Archer grinned. "Good. Seems everybody around me is all paired up; I think it's my turn now." His mind instantly filled with many possibilities. Not that he wasn't still somewhat in love with Cid Highwind, but he had learned six months prior that nothing was going to drag the pilot from his love of Vincent. The two were made for each other, and Kyle knew it. He had lost his chance long ago when jealousy and pride helped him make the wrong decision.

For a moment, the two men fell silent lost in their own thoughts as they calmly finished off the now cold coffee's they had started long before.

Suddenly, before either could react, the air inside the common room shimmered, and two forms suddenly appeared. Reeve and Archer gaped in surprise as two bodies began to take form directly in front of them.

On the left was a young pale man with long metallic silver hair and pointed ears much like the elves in a child's fairy tale. He wore a long robe in varying shades of green and grey, while his brilliant emerald green eyes observed everything placidly. In one hand, he held a short platinum staff adorned with a simple jade sphere.

His companion was a young woman of ethereal beauty. She was pale, like he, with stunning amethyst eyes. Her long white hair with grey tips was braided extensively and pulled into a heap of loops and knots atop her head. Fabric draped over her body in a myriad of colors. Her graceful neck and pointed ears were adorned with golden jewelry, and her wrists and upper arm twinkled with an elegant design.

Kyle stared in awe as his mouth gaped open. Reeve looked much the same, although his face also held an intent look of curiosity.

The male smirked as he looked down at them. "Frightened?"

Archer laughed. "Not in the least… who are you?"

It was the female who responded, placing a hand on her hip as she traded glances with the silver-haired male. "I am surprised you do not recognize our voices, even if our forms have changed."

"Seiryu?" questioned Reeve, very surprised. His eyes had widened completely.

"The one and the same," responded the silver dragon in human form. His smirk turned solemn. "Danger is on the horizon."

"Trouble approaches on swift wings," added in Tiamat, she of the white hair.

Archer stood to his feet suddenly, their words striking something inside him. "Wutai?" The word was almost whispered, though question it was.

The two nodded. "And all of the beasts are heading straight for this airship," intoned Seiryu.

"We've no choice then," remarked Reeve solemnly. He stood to his feet. "I won't even ask how you know. We've got to wake Cid and stop them before they destroy anything."

Archer nodded in agreement. "Let's go."

----

(Ack, the fluffy! Warning: Fluff and Candy!)

Nanaki lay on the ground, staring up at the deceptively blue and clear sky. The patch of grass beneath him was fragrant and soft, a startling contrast to the slight scent of death and burning that lingered over the city of Cosmo Canyon. This one spot overlooked the demi-human's home town and was perfect for his sought solitude.

Arms folded beneath his head, the red-haired male sighed softly and tried to ease the ache in his heart and mind. His grandfather was gone from this world, Isis having left also not long after Yuffie, Cid, and himself had arrived. The demi-goddess had gradually faded away until she could no longer be seen. Bugenhagen had touched the lives of many. Nevertheless, Nanaki knew he could not keep his sorrow forever locked within. Grandfather would have never stood for it.

And now with his absence, it was Nanaki to which the elders turned for guidance. It was the demi-human to which they turned for questions about the planet and current events. Especially those concerning the recent attack on their city. He was tired of their persistence, tired of their demands, and was glad for this one moment's peace.

Up here, he could still watch over Cosmo Canyon, always alert for any attack, free from the soot and ash taste that accompanied any of his meanderings through the town faded with the scent of the fresh breeze.

Nanaki's ears perked up when he heard the sound of footsteps, light and barely pressing into the ground as they approached. He knew of only one other person with enough agility to sneak up on him like that.

"I knew I'd find you here," came the voice of his best friend Yufffie Kisaragi. His eyes opened, and he looked up to see her grinning down on him, one hand cocked on her hip as she always stood.

"I'm hiding," he offered by way of explanation before he closed his eyes and went back to relaxing. He didn't mind Yuffie's presence. He knew she wouldn't bother him with fiscal figures and petty arguments. If anything, she would just let him be and that was quite enough.

He heard her huff quietly before settling down onto the grass next to him, sitting rather than lying. "You miss him alot," she commented more than asked.

Golden eyes opened. Out of the corner of his vision he saw her idly picking at the grass, while his own gaze remained trained on the heavens above. A few clouds slowly drifted by, barely obscuring the clear bright blue of the free sky. "He was the only family I remember."

"But… it's not like he's gone forever, you know," she responded. "You'll see him again. It may be awhile, but he's still there with you."

Nanaki smiled, uncoiling one of the arms from beneath his head to playfully push on her arm. "I don't believe I've ever heard you sound so serious."

"Hey!" the ninja retorted, brown eyes sparkling. "I have my moments."

He chuckled lightly but didn't say anything in return, settling back into his comfortable position. Yuffie was quiet as well, and the two sat for a moment in companionable silence.

Nanaki looked over at his best friend. She had changed somewhat in the past six months or so. Not so much that it was completely noticeable to others, but to him, who had spent the most time around her, she had become a bit calmer, more mature. She still teased and tried to take his materia, and was occasionally loud and obnoxious, but that was just her way. The demi-human had come to understand that about the young ninja.

He couldn't help but admire her from where he lay. He had never noticed the inherent loveliness in humans as a lion wolf, only seeing their aesthetic nature. However, as a demi-human, he could at last understand the attraction, but Yuffie's beauty was different than that of Aeris' sweet glow or Shera's plain yet sparkling façade. She was like sunshine, all bright and cheerful.

Neither of them had spoken of the kiss since it occurred. It seemed the both of them were too embarrassed to say anything and had pretended as if it had never occurred. Nanaki didn't want to lose his friendship with her, but he knew deep within his heart that he desired more than that. He wanted her… it was a feeling he had come to just realize. Her personality was almost the perfect balance to his own: her playfulness dragging him out of his somewhat contemplative and serious shell, her intelligence a match for his own, and she was a fighter as well. Nanaki would never have to worry about her on the battle field, though that did not stop the odd feelings of protectiveness that would rise in him.

As his mind wandered, Yuffie started to amuse herself. Fingers trailed through the grass and weeds that they were reclining on, as if searching for the ever elusive four-leaf clover. Without thinking, the young ninja started to hum, the lazy warmth of the sun and gentle breeze making her feel strangely content.

She had a pleasant voice, nothing noteworthy like those of opera or pop culture, but altogether nice to listen to. The tune she hummed was something light and airy, relatively simple like a lullaby.

"That is a beautiful song," the demi-human murmured, stealing a glance at the ninja. "Where is it from?"

Yuffie blushed, twirling a three-leafed clover around in her nimble, ninja fingers. "My mother used to sing it to be when I was little. It's one of my fonder and clearer memories."

He nodded in understanding and closed his eyes, absorbing the warmth of the sun. For the moment, all thoughts of war and destruction were far from his mind. He vaguely registered the sounds of Yuffie moving but wasn't overly concerned. After all, it wasn't as if she would attack him or anything.

Suddenly, soft fingers lightly grazed over his chest as the weight of the amulet was lifted. His eyes sprang open, and he looked up to see Yuffie leaning somewhat over him, eyeing the necklace interested as a thumb traced lazy circles over the 'flamel' design. The gold metal glinted in the sunlight, casting small rainbows over the ninja's face.

"I wonder if you'll ever change back," she murmured thoughtfully, eyes flickering over his face before returning back to the amulet.

Nanaki felt his breath catch as he watched her, his skin tingling where she had barely touched him. The brown-eyed woman gradually allowed the gold links to slip through her fingers until it landed back on his chest with a slight thump, though she remained hovering over him. Something sparkled behind her eyes.

He wanted to kiss her. That unmistakable urge rode up in him again. "Yuffie… I…"

She shook her head gently, leaning over him. Slowly, deliberately, she brought one of her hand before his face, putting a finger to his lips. "Shh," she hushed simply, before leaning over and pressing her lips to his own. His eyes fluttered closed on their own accord. For the first time, she initiated the contact.

In a moment, time stopped, and Nanaki almost forgot how to breathe, so absorbed was he by the soft press of her lips and her airy scent all around him. She kissed him gently, but he quickly took over, pushing his mouth against her own and coaxing her lips to part as he skimmed his tongue against the plump skin. She tasted wonderful.

The hand that had shushed him now rested on his chest, bearing her slight weight on him as Yuffie balanced herself so that she wouldn't fall over. Their tongues carefully explored their mouths, dipping into each hidden caress and memorizing each unique flavor.

Nanaki couldn't help the heat that began to spread through him, igniting fires he had been trying to suppress no more than the ninja could stop the red flush tinting her cheeks.

An arm uncoiled itself from behind his head and unconsciously tangled fingers through her black locks, tilting the ninja's head further and rubbing on her scalp. She whimpered somewhere in the base of her throat before nipping gently on his bottom lip and deepening the kiss. What had begun as a simple kiss was turning into something far more powerful.

It was the need for air that finally separated the two best friends. Both of them were mildly panting, lips separated by only a few inches as their eyes locked. It was a tender expression that passed between them before Nanaki pressed himself upwards once more, invoking another kiss from the responsive ninja. He used a hand to balance himself as he moved into a half sitting position, not releasing his gentle hold on her head.

One of her hands still laid against his chest as the other came up and tentatively placed itself upon his shoulder, gently squeezing the muscle and fingers lightly playing across his skin. The feathery touches were almost a tease to the demi-human as he swiped his tongue inside the ninja's moist cavern and memorized her taste. It was one he knew he would never tire of, something mysterious and vaguely exotic yet also citrus, as if she had just eaten an orange or tangerine.

Her lips pressed against his hungrily, but it seemed they dared do no more than kiss, almost devouring each other's mouths in their passion. Nanaki couldn't remember a time he felt more breathless and more excited… yet also terribly frightened all at the same time. This was his best friend he was kissing, but he didn't want to stop, and neither it seemed did the ninja. He wanted so much more than just their friendship, easily recognizing the warmth that was spreading through him and slow throbbing that was starting to take form between his legs.

Yuffie smelled absolutely delicious and that was the only way he could describe it. He pushed down the moan in his throat and threaded his fingers through her hair in the same moment he rubbed a thumb over her cheek, an endearing gesture. The hand on his shoulder tightened slightly as the one on his chest slipped from its place.

Despite how much he was enjoying their embrace, and the soft play of her lips and tongue against his, Nanaki knew that they could no longer keep dancing around the issue. He wanted her to know how he felt and hoped that she could return his feelings. He would hate to lose his best friend, but it was worse in the long run to never try…

The demi-human slowly broke away from the kiss, pulling away so that he could look into her beautiful grey eyes, like the sky after a fresh rain. "I'm not going to pretend like this didn't happen," he said softly.

Yuffie blushed but didn't pull away from his hold, unconsciously licking her lips. "I was confused at first," she explained, voice equally quiet. "I wasn't quite sure what to say… and then a proper moment never came up."

Nanaki sighed, lowering his golden eyes for a moment in shame. "It's my fault really; I should have said something sooner, but I am beginning to think that I want more than just our friendship; there's something about you… I… can't explain it, I just know."

She nodded slowly. "I know… I feel it too, but…"

"But?" questioned the demi-human, idly running his thumb over her cheek once more.

"There are circumstances that I wish I could just forget, but I can't. And father expects so much of me, and it just doesn't seem fair…" The words began to rush out of her in all a torrent as her face scrunched up with sorrow, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. "I mean, I've only met him once; that was when I was a child, even then I thought him stuck-up, and I really don't want to marry him because I like you more and its not really a choice that I…"

Yuffie was quickly cut off as Nanaki kissed her once more, something soft and tender. It was effective in that it silenced her and calmed her down a little. She leaned into his touch and wrapped an arm around his neck. He indulged himself for a moment before he gently pulled away.

The ninja blinked and pouted at the loss, looking unbelievably cute. He chuckled lightly before speaking about her earlier trouble and confusion. "Perhaps if we just take things slow…"

She nodded. "I do want to be with you; it's just…"

He shook his head, the beads and shells clinking lightly. "It is okay. After all, we are friends first and foremost, right?"

Yuffie smiled at that. "Of course, you know you're my best friend, Aki," she teased, calling him by her pet name as she gently tapped his shoulder with her fist. "Unless of course there is some other ninja out there you would rather steal your materia."

"No!" exclaimed the demi-human in mock horror. "Not my materia!"

The ninja giggled as she poked at him. "Yes, all of it. Even that precious Earth that you think is hidden, but I know you have." Yuffie winked at him before waving a hand in front of his face, green materia nestled between her third and fourth fingers.

Golden eyes widened in mock disbelief. He had actually gotten better at noticing when the agile materia thief had taken his magic. This time he had realized but played along for the sake of her amusement. He pretended to diligently search his pockets and armlet before conceding that the ninja did indeed have his most precious Earth materia.

"Give it back then," he said. "You've proven your point."

Yuffie appeared thoughtful for a moment, tapping the materia laden hand against her chin before a somewhat evil grin broke out on her face. "Umm, no," she teased as she leapt up and took off running across the hill, green grass soft beneath her feet.

Nanaki laughed and jumped up chasing after her. Sure, they were supposed to be adults. Yes, they were two of the youngest members of a group of heroes to save the planet. After the events of the past few days, both of them deserved a little fun, even if it did seem childish.

Yuffie giggled as she ran from Nanaki, taking random turns and occasionally casting glances over her shoulder, Earth materia clenched tightly in her fist. However, it wasn't long before the red-haired male caught up to her. Nanaki was the fastest and strongest member of their team. She knew she had no chance.

The brown-eyed girl tried to nimbly dodge out of the way, narrowly evading his first grab but getting caught by the second. He wrapped his arms around her in some semblance of a tackle, and the two went crashing to the ground, Nanaki rolling slightly to the left so that he didn't crush the smaller female with his weight.

The two were laughing as the demi-human struggled to pry his materia from her grip. However, slim hands held on tight as Yuffie steadfastly refused to let go. The two friends playfully rolled across the small field of grass and flowers, petals getting caught in their hair with each movement.

"That's it," grinned Nanaki, the two of them finally coming to a stop with him halfway straddling her. "Its time for desperate measures."

Brown eyes widened. "No. Not that. Anything but that."

But it was too late.

Without warning, Nanaki dove in, fingers attacking. Yuffie began to giggle uncontrollably as he tickled her. She was extremely sensitive and ticklish, and to the little ninja, it was pure torture. The dark-haired girl writhed and gasped beneath his touch, trying her hardest to catch her breath from all the laughter spilling out of her.

Nanaki was laughing as well as he teased her.

"Fine," gasped the ninja, holding out her arm and showing him the green Earth materia. "I give up."

"Thank you."

The demi-human smirked as he stopped tickling her and grabbed his materia, putting it back in its proper place on his armlet. Yuffie was trying to catch her breath as she looked up at him smiling.

"What?" he questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

She smirked evilly. "Your turn." And with that she lunged up and tackled the demi-human, nimble fingers instantly searching out his most ticklish spots.

The sounds of their laughter filled the air as their anima's watched on in amusement before disappearing in a short twinkle of light.

---

I couldn't resist. These two are just too cute together. So any comments?


	24. Temptation at Every Turn

**Thanks to my reviewers! **

**(Voice in Head)**

'**Internal Thought'**

**Chapter 24: Temptation at Every Turn**

Reno sighed as he kicked at a piece of debris. It connected with his foot and shot against the far wall, clattering as it did so. It came as no surprise when he found that still didn't satisfy him. He was both annoyed and angry.

There was nothing there; it had all been cleared out. No dark-haired bitch and no brainless henchmen. Tifa and her goons must have disappeared elsewhere once he escaped. He regretted not doing something to detain them at the time but knew that saving Wutai had taken precedence. Some things were just more important.

After the battle against Daunte and the hordes of monsters, which he only drove away and did not kill, Reno had been celebrated as a hero by the surviving population. Godo made him an 'honorary taijo', whatever the hell that was. Reno was just glad that he had survived. The Wutaiians seemed to share the same feeling.

After a meal and some much needed sleep, not to mention several futile attempts to make a phone call, Reno decided to return to the underground building where he had been held. As expected, it had been abandoned. It looked like the red-haired Turk would have to find them again for his revenge. They hadn't even left any clues behind as to where they had gone either, making things even more difficult than before.

The small contingent of Wutaiian soldiers that had been made to accompany him poked around restlessly obviously bored. There were only about seven or eight of them, most looking as if they were newly recruited. Some had already started to talk in low voices, undoubtedly spreading more rumors as those in groups tended to do. The newest topics seemed to be the attack, himself, and even a few rumors about one Miss Yuffie Kisaragi.

Reno agreed wholeheartedly that it was boring and was about to call for everyone to return to Wutai when he heard his name being screeched along the walls of the abandoned base. The words bounced along the hall, gaining in volume as they reached his ears and rattled within his ear drums. He recognized the tone almost immediately and unconsciously gulped.

The Turk winced and sighed, momentarily wishing there was a rock for him to crawl under or that the ground would just widen and swallow him whole. Anything was better than having to deal with what was coming around the bend. He felt his aggravation level spike up another notch, but alas, there was not another rock in sight to kick. Along with fame and high regard, the Turk had also received an unwanted bonus… if that was what it could be called.

"Reno-sempai! Reno-sempai! News from Wutai!"

The ranks easily parted for the young woman as she rushed to where he stood. Iliana was his biggest fan and followed him around starry-eyed; she had yet to take any hints. She was beautiful with her long, dark Wutaiian hair and big, brown eyes, but his heart belonged to Reeve – no matter how tempted he was. Not to mention, Iliana was best friends with Yuffie. If anything that was a definite turn off. It wasn't that he didn't like the little ninja, she was actually quite a spunky female, but she did have the tendency to be quite annoying.

He waited patiently until the younger woman ran to his side, looking as if she had sprinted all the way from Wutai to him. He wouldn't put it past her. In her hand, she clutched a communications sheet from the old radio tower that was receiving some sort of signal. It had been restricted to business communication, however, and not even Reno could get in to use it, no matter how sweetly he spoke or flirted. He couldn't help but be worried for Reeve, knowing in truth that the attacks had not been limited to Wutai because otherwise his attempts at communication would have been more fruitful.

"Lord Godo gasp message gasp for you," Iliana managed to get out before collapsing on her ass to the floor, panting heavily and handing him the sheet of paper. Her face was flushed although her brown eyes sparkled happily. She was ecstatic to get to be around her 'sempai' once more. Reno had to fight down a sigh.

He flashed her one of his charming smiles because she had worked so diligently to bring him the message. "Thank you," he said simply before taking the missive from her hands. She beamed up at him, still somewhat panting. He hoped that he hadn't inadvertently encouraged her.

Aquamarine eyes scanned quickly over the short yet effective words. His heart couldn't help but pick up a beat from what he read. He had been extremely concerned when communications were down. The Turk worried that other places had been attacked as well. He knew Reeve could take care of himself but knowing how things were when he left…

Reno feared that they wouldn't be able to see each other again, that the final words they had shouted would be the last they ever shared. He wasn't normally that cynical, but something about the events brought out the negative in him. Yet, reading the missive, he found he could breathe a sigh of relief.

Reeve was coming to Wutai.

The executive was actually coming after him. The message was simple and obviously addressed to Godo and not himself. Perhaps Reeve wanted to surprise him? Then again, his helicopter had crashed, and he was held for ransom in some random underground base. Hell, he would have been worried, too. So was the amber-eyed man only coming because he was concerned… or because he truly understood why the Turk had left in the first place?

Sighing, Reno shook his head to clear his thoughts, looking up to see everyone in the base looking up at him expectantly, waiting for further orders. He folded up the paper slowly and shoved it into his back pocket before shooting them all one of his famous Reno smiles.

"Let's get the hell out of here, yo," he calmly ordered as he moved past most of them, heading towards the ladder that was the exit. "This place is boring as fuck."

There was a general murmur of agreement as they began to follow him out. Pattering footsteps, the feeling of a presence, and Reno knew that Iliana now walked at his side, beaming up at him like some kind of stalker. He wondered how he could make her leave him alone without being rude or hurting her feelings. She was a sweet girl and really he was flattered by all the attention, but damn, she needed to move on and do something else.

There was a childish giggle in the back of his mind. (Hee! Kitty's coming to Wutai. I told you he would.)

Reno gave the equivalent of a mental headshake at his anima. 'Even you call him Kitty? Reeve's going to be pissed.'

Asclepius laughed. (No, he won't. He secretly finds the nickname cute.)

'And you would know that how? He got all pissy when I teasingly called him it,' Reno countered easily, resisting the urge to cross his arms and frown physically. If he did the Wutaiian soldiers and Iliana might think him mad. They were already awed by his control of his "summon" and didn't know of the true connection the two shared.

The Turk secretly feared that if he were to reveal Asclepius in his true form, someone somewhere would get word and drag him off to be poked, prodded and tested on.

Hell no.

Reno had had enough of that when he had been ordered to help that damn scientist Hojo. Why ShinRa allowed him to stick whoever the hell he wanted with needles was beyond the Turk's comprehension. The man was seriously sick and needed a good ass-kicking, which he eventually had received. Heh, good going Cid. The pilot deserved a pat on the back for that one.

(Seiryu told me,) explained the demi-god, as if that explained everything completely. (What are you going to do, yo?) The little summon snickered.

Reno frowned. 'Do?'

Asclepius giggled again, the sound much like that of many wind chimes on a lazy summer day. Yeah, the Turk was somewhat of a poet at times. Even he had his days.

(You know what I mean… don't act stupid.)

He was about to speak when another voice pulled him from his internal argument with his anima. He blinked and tried to focus on the sound.

"Huh?" he questioned, sounding very brilliant indeed.

"Was the message important, sempai?" Iliana questioned again, having no problems with have to repeat herself. "I didn't read it. I thought it personal; was it about the battle?"

The scarlet-haired Turk turned his attention down towards the brown-eyed girl. She was looking up at him expectantly, an interested look to her face as she idly twirled a small dagger on her finger. She was quite adept with her hands, and Reno made a mental note to watch his materia around her. Iliana was friends with Yuffie after all.

"It was important," he conceded and answered vaguely as he looked around. They had come out of the base and were slowly making their way back towards Wutai. A few of the soldiers were on alert, but most were calmly joking between themselves, already speaking of the food and drink that was hopefully waiting for them. Although most of the Turtle's Paradise had been destroyed in the blaze, as well as many of the restaurants, a few had remained standing and were currently to full capacity trying to feed everyone.

"Oh," the girl responded. "Then it was private?"

The Turk nodded in answer and turned away from her. She was a beautiful girl, yet to be unwed, and it was approaching that time for her in her life. Perhaps that was why she had attached herself to him? If he hadn't already belonged to someone else… he might have been severely tempted. The old Reno wouldn't have even waited – the Reno he was before he met Reeve wouldn't have thought twice before giving her a try, but that was behind him now.

So what was he going to do? Wait patiently for the executive to show up? Would he demand an apology or just grab him and never let go? What if Reeve still didn't understand? Those questions and more began to float in his mind; he found a small frown making its way to his face.

Asclepius shifted restlessly in his mind and made little coughing sounds, as if trying to get back his attention.

'What?' he questioned internally.

The demi-god sighed. (I know it seems that there is peace right now but don't get too relaxed.)

Reno snorted within his mind. 'Like I could right now. I'm so on edge, I'm probably gonna snap.' It wasn't a lie either. He was completely worried about Reeve, concerned as to why Wutai had been attacked, and Tifa was still missing, undoubtedly off planning some other dastardly deed.

The red-haired Turk sighed softly and turned his attentions back to where he was walking, not wanting to trip on a random rock or something and make a complete fool out of himself. Wutai was just over the next rise. Most of the soldiers had gone on ahead, leaving Iliana and him behind. Hmph. No surprise there; it had been exceedingly boring searching that base. Reno even considered joining them at the bar. He could really use a shot of vodka.

"Is something the matter, Reno-sempai?" Iliana queried, placing a hand on his arm and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head negatively and slowly extricated himself from her grasp. "Shouldn't you be going home? I mean, I'm sure your father is worried about you or something, yo…" The red head trailed off, trying to get her to leave him alone with hurting her feelings.

Her happy face fell for just a moment, and he swore he saw her eyes tearing up just a little. Reno sighed. 'Ah, hell, I think I made her cry,' he thought, somewhat annoyed.

"You don't want me hanging around you anymore?" she questioned in a voice that was as pitiful as the look on her face, slowly twisting her hands together worriedly.

"Look," began Reno patiently. "It's not that, really. I just think your father might be worried, that's all."

(Lies, lies, oh the webs we weave.) Asclepius giggled. (She's playing you like an instrument.)

'Shut up,' retorted the Turk internally as he returned his attentions to Iliana, surprised to find that her expression had changed once more from sadness to utter delight.

"I'm glad, because I really admire you," she said, an honest look in her eyes. "I mean, you took on all those monsters all by yourself. I've never seen anyone braver in my entire life, except perhaps Miss Yuffie, but you know…" she trailed off, leaving the rest open to interpretation.

Reno flushed under the attention, which was uncommon for him. For a single moment, he let his guard down. "I appreciate the attention, Iliana, but… mmph!" His words were cut off when the young Wutaiian girl suddenly threw herself at him and into his arms, overtaking his mouth with her own and aggressively kissing him.

He was too shocked to do more than accept it for the brief moment that it occurred. She was soft against him, all curves as a woman should be and smelling faintly of gardenias… don't ask him how he knew of flowers.

It was different kissing her than kissing Reeve. She was quite unskilled, almost as if she had never pressed lips with anyone before, and she kept biting on his lower lips.

Finally, she pulled back after what could have only been a second and looked into his eyes, a slight blush staining her cheeks. "I've been wanting to do that…" she breathed softly.

His senses struck him then, with all the force of a bullet and he quickly but gently extricated himself from her grasp and put a few feet of distance between them. She gave him a confused look with a bit of hurt mixed in.

Reno put his hand to his forehead, feeling a headache come on as he sighed. "You are a nice girl, Iliana, and I am flattered by your attentions, but I am engaged," he said quickly, wanting to get it all out and explained before she had a chance to protest him. "I am in love with someone else."

"But she can't possibly be treating you right," the girl argued. "After all, you are here alone, and you look sad all the time…" she trailed off. "You would make a great addition to my family, and we would celebrate you as a hero, and father says that it's my duty to marry someone of great worth…"

The Turk rubbed his forehead with his fingers seeming very much like Tseng in that moment and exhaled slowly. "He… Iliana, he! I have been with Reeve for years, and I love him. Yes, I'm mad at him, but I'm not about to leave him."

"Him?" questioned Iliana, eyes widening in surprise. "Yo… you're gay? But you seemed so… straight?"

(I can't believe she couldn't take the hint before, yo.) Asclepius snickered laughing internally. The Turk attempted to ignore his anima, hissing internally at him to be quiet while he solved this mess.

Reno opened his mouth to reply when the angry roar of a monster interrupted. Immediately, his eyes turned towards the sky, and his face blanched. Five flying monsters were circling the town of Wutai as if deciding the best place to land. They were of a type he didn't recognize though the very sight of them chilled him to the bone.

These creatures were much larger the dragons in the Northern Crater and he could make out claws and spikes that were definitely painful looking. And there was none to defend Wutai, but Asclepius and he.

"Wha… what are they?" stuttered Iliana, fear evident in her voice.

Reno shook his head. "I don't know…" he trailed off, unable to think of anything else of worth to add.

The creatures continued to circle, occasionally taking nips at each other. He couldn't help but wonder what they had planned and if they were going to attack. Either way, the Turk knew he had to act fast.

"Iliana, go home!" he ordered quickly before taking off at a dead run towards Wutai, automatically calling for Asclepius as he did so. The air shimmered beside him as the human form of the demi-god began to take shape.

Behind him, the young Wutaiian was nodding numbly as she darted towards her home; all thoughts of ravishing Reno were gone from her mind in the wake of her fear.

"They are the Bandragores," intoned Asclepius as his form finally became fully shape beside his animus. The green-haired teenager was easily keeping up with the red-haired Turk. "The guardians of the gate… I don't know how they came to be on this plane. They shouldn't even be allowed to materialize in this sphere."

Reno just looked at him blankly, uncomprehending his words, as if they had been spoken in another language. He had never heard of the Bandragores. And gate? What kind of fucking gate was the demi-god talking about?

The Turk looked once more to the sky, eyes locked on the five circling creatures. They looked like a cross between a Dragon Zombie and Cerberus with two heads, a skeletal body, and covered in a slimy looking hide that was black and mottled with spines, which seemed to glisten with poison. He couldn't help the shiver of mild apprehension and fear that traced down his back.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked to the west, his eyes widening in surprise as he paled even further. He stumbled in his step as his heart began to beat faster with fear.

It was the Highwind… heading straight for Wutai and the circling beasts above.

----

The building carried the heavy smells of antiseptic and sickness, underlain with the bitter, coppery scent of blood. Coughing and slight moans of pain filled the air. It wasn't exactly an encouraging place, this abandoned building that had been hurriedly cleaned and turned into a makeshift healing center.

After the attack of the monsters on Midgar, many wounded were left behind. Reeve had roused what few soldiers ShinRa had left, as well as the Turks and gave them many tasks, including getting the injured some aid. However, that was over a day earlier and most had been treated or seen by a doctor. Most injuries ranged from the worst to simple cuts and bruises.

Throughout the pain and agony, a calming presence moved with soothing hands and a gentle spirit. She had a kind voice and words of encouragement. Her presence often brought a healing wave to those who received her care.

"Even though I can't fight, I can be helpful in this much at least," murmured Aeris as she gently retied a bandage around the leg of a child, who couldn't have been more than eight. He whimpered in his sleep, nightmares most likely, and she pressed a calming palm to his forehead.

Although her flower shop had emerged from the battle unscathed, she had felt she could be more useful helping the wounded. She left it in the care of her employees, trusting them enough to be able to handle it. It's not as if they really needed the money anyways, it was more of a spirit-lifter than anything else.

Cloud sighed from where he was standing behind her. "Is it such a terrible thing? To not have to fight?"

"It's not that I want to," retorted Aeris as she moved on to the next patient, an older woman with broken ribs. "I just don't want to stand idly by. Have you spoken to Barret?"

The blond-haired man blinked for a moment at his wife's sudden change of topic. "Eh… a few hours ago, but North Corel's been left pretty much alone. If I can, I want it to remain that way."

Aeris turned and eyed her husband, eye twinkling. "You want to fight, don't you?"

He frowned slightly and shook his head. "What does that have to do with anything? You know I'm going to stay here with you."

The auburn-haired woman sighed as she turned her attentions to the patient. "How are you feeling today, Mrs. Adams? Are your ribs still giving you pain?" Her cool and gentle fingers carefully pressed around the bandaging, checking to make sure that everything was still in place before she attempted a healing spell.

As the elderly woman spoke, Aeris allowed her mind to wander. Yesterday evening she had cast so many Cures and handed out so many potions that she had nearly passed out from exhaustion and magic depletion. Cloud had been forced to physically remove her from the hospital. She had wanted to stay and help them. There weren't enough healers to go around, and so many people were still in pain. She couldn't fight, not at six months pregnant and still going, but she was still a healer.

(I do not understand my animus. Why your heart is filled with sorrow?) came the soft voice of Hephaestion. He was one of the many constants in her life. She had always been able to hear her anima, even through the voices of the Ancients and the Planet. He was her first true friend.

'He thinks I do not know how much he misses being a soldier. After all, it was all he dreamed of as a boy and all he knew after joining ShinRa. As if a life of peace would truly be what he wanted. He wants to fight.'

(He is also ignoring Iblion. We don't have that much time. We cannot afford for any of the twelve to be unconnected.) Aeris conceded an agreement with her anima and sighed internally.

It was then that she heard Cloud shift behind her and come up to her side, his presence easily distinguishable from others behind her. She tucked the last bit of bandages around Mrs. Adams and carefully poured into her body a simple Cure before turning to address her husband.

"Why are you still ignoring his voice?" she questioned, locking gazes with her somewhat taller husband. His own eyes widened in momentary surprise before it seemed he shut down inside, and his gaze shifted away from her probing look.

"Ignoring who?" he mumbled, gathering up their supplies and preparing to move to the next patient as Mrs. Adams smiled up at them, already falling into a comforting healing sleep brought about by the calming effect of the Cure that Aeris had input into the magic.

The flower-girl sighed and absentmindedly rubbed her belly. "Hephaestion tells me your anima has been trying to speak to you ever since the crater… why haven't you told me?"

Cloud shrugged off-handedly. "You should be able to guess. Voices in my head don't exactly make me feel as if I've gotten rid of her."

There was no need to say aloud who the blond meant when he said "her." The name Jenova was like a curse on the lips of those who had fought against Sephiroth. That foul alien from the stars was behind all of their suffering, Hojo and her both. From the burning of Nibelheim to the battle to stop Meteor, all could be traced back to Jenova.

He sighed before she could respond and spoke again. "Besides… it's all jumbled, and sometimes I would swear there was more than one voice…" His eyes looked somewhat haunted as he appeared to relieve the words that fluttered through his mind and heart.

The slight look of perturbation on Aeris' face softened, and she grabbed her husband by the arm, quickly dragging him into one of the shadowed alcoves of the makeshift hospital so that they could speak away from the prying eyes of those patients that were actually awake. It was darkened there, only a bit of light shining in from a dirty, cracked window and partially hidden by a stone column that was once decorated but now a forgotten remnant of whatever the building had once been before Meteor.

Once hidden by the shadows and the column, the ex-SOLDIER drew his wife into his arms and held her close. She melted into his touch, his arms around her as comforting as they always were, and for an instant, she was reminded of that moment right before they left to defeat Sephiroth, lying on his bed in the Highwind when he gave her the promise ring.

"How do I know I can trust… it?" Cloud questioned softly, idly stroking her hair as he did so.

She heard the rumble of his voice and felt it in his chest as her cheek rested on his shoulder. "Instead of pushing the words away, listen to what they are saying. You might find you may have already known." Her words were somewhat enigmatic, but that was the best way she could describe the feeling of learning to understand the anima. It was like that for her with Hephaestion when he first spoke. It was like coming home or meeting a friend she hadn't seen in a long while.

"… I will try then," he conceded, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"I know you want to fight," Aeris responded softly, bringing back the conversation to where it had been minutes earlier. "And I understand your reasons."

He sighed. "I just want to protect you." One of his hands moved to her belly, lying gently on the small mound. "And our future as well."

"Things aren't going to be simple anymore," intoned the flower-girl. "The enemy must find it amusing to give us those six months of semi-peace before snatching it out from under us by complete surprise."

The blond didn't reply, having nothing to say in response. Instead, he chose to hold her closer and stared unseeing out the dingy and broken window, barely catching a hint of the sky above.

He had felt it, too, not long before the first attack. The restless shifting of the air in the world, as if something even more worrisome and terrifying than Sephiroth was about to occur. He had hoped for quiet after saving the world. He had wanted to see everyone he knew happy now that the threat of the former General was gone and done with. However, it seemed that dream wasn't meant to come true.

"Oh!" exclaimed Cloud suddenly, a bright smile breaking out on his face. "She kicked me!"

Aeris laughed. "I think she's trying to say that she agrees with you. Have you any ideas for a name yet?"

The blond nodded. "I was thinking Midori…"

"Anything special about that name in particular?"

He smiled faintly as he stroked his wife's belly and shared a kiss with her. "It was my mother's name."

Jade eyes shone happily. "Then it's perfect. Now how about we go back and help the rest of these patients before we stop by the orphanage?"

Cloud sighed exaggeratedly and acted the part of a weary slave. "I shall never rest. Always work, work, work… oh, my aching feet."

Aeris laughed and shook her head. "And here I thought Yuffie was the dramatic one. Come on then, slave, there's work to be done." She took his hand and started pulling him back towards the lines of cots in the makeshift hospital. He went along without another fuss, content to just be in her company, no matter what it was they were doing.

---

Oooh the plot thickens! Also, I've finally caught up to where I've pre-written and posted on all my other sites. So updates won't be every day, more like every four days or so, unless I get in a burst of writing. But I'm studying for SEVEN college finals this week, so I can't promise anything! Thanks everyone! But don't worry, it will be finished. I always do.


	25. Rekindled

**Thanks reviewers! (Sorceress Fujin and Tasakari!) I love you all! **

**Chapter 25: Rekindled **

"Somehow, I expected more," commented Gilgamesh, raising an eyebrow at what remained of Midgar. From the events six months prior, Diamond Weapon's attack, the destruction of Meteor, and more recently, the monster army attack, the town was in less than suitable shape. To be honest, it was hanging on by a thin thread. Midgar seemed more suited for demolition than rebuilding.

"Hard to believe it was originally created as the pinnacle of design, the best that ShinRa could devise," Seraph added in solidly, slowly climbing down from Masa's back to allow the black chocobo to rest.

The demi-god and he had left Kalm and headed straight for Midgar, only stopping once for a small rest before continuing on their journey. The former General had felt a strange sense of urgency, as if he had to be in the once glorious city before a certain time, and pushed Masa to move her quickest. As a result, the chocobo was more than tired, barely able to stand on her own two feet.

He stood on the outskirts, with a bit of indecision. There wasn't a chocobo stable in sight, and Masa desperately needed a rest. He scanned the lower section of Midgar once again, moss green eyes finally settling on a small abandoned building on the edge. It would have to do.

He led the black chocobo to the small building and opened the door, which was thankfully unlocked. The former General removed the saddle and harness from her back and settled them down on the floor. It was very dusty within the structure, but enough light streamed in from the windows that Masa would have no trouble seeing.

The chocobo warbled happily and immediately settled down for a nap. The dark-haired man patted her gently on the head, hefted his pack onto his back over one shoulder and left the building, searing its location within his memory. Gilgamesh was waiting outside, looking more than bored. He was tapping his foot impatiently.

"You'd think after being alive so long, you would pick up a little thing called patience," Seraph commented with bemusement as he passed by the demi-god and headed into the lower realms of Midgar, commonly called the slums. He believed his current section was Sector 5.

Gilgamesh snorted. "Or maybe I have been alive so long I no longer have any patience."

Seraph waved a hand of dismissal. "You're just irritable."

The demi-god didn't respond, only shot him a glare and snorted derisively. The two continued into Midgar, passing by many abandoned buildings but very few people. What few residents they did find, regarded them with thinly veiled suspicion from their makeshift shelters and their tattered clothing. The dark-haired man couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing it was his deranged actions that caused much of their suffering. He wondered if there was anything he could do to atone for his mistakes.

"Stop that!" Gilgamesh ordered, breaking their companionable silence.

Seraph furrowed his brow and cast a look at the demi-god. "Stop what?"

"The broody feelings of worthlessness, and don't ask how I know; it is all over your face. If Gaia did not have a reason, she would not have bothered."

Seraph sighed and was about to respond when a light sound caught his ears. He cocked his head to the side and drew to a stop, listening intently. It was vaguely recognizable sound, but it was one that demanded his attention.

Gilgamesh stopped moving as well, giving him a look of confusion. "What are yo…"

But a look from Seraph silenced the demi-god.

Then the former General heard the sound again. Like that of weeping, and it came from the alley next to him. Focusing in on the crying, Seraph moved slowly towards the darkened passage, surrounded on either side by abandoned houses. He peered into the shadows but couldn't see anything save three trash cans. Then he heard the sniffling again. It was quiet and muffled, but definitely not a product of his imagination. Satisfied that someone was indeed within the alley, Seraph stepped inside.

"Hello?" he called out, hoping to draw out the individual. No one responded. The dark-haired man turned back to Gilgamesh, but the demi-god had disappeared. Seraph shrugged elegantly and went to investigate, certain that if there were tears, he was in no danger.

He pushed past the mouth of the alley and gingerly stepped over the litter and debris that covered the ground, eyes scanning for signs of life. It wasn't until the moved past the trash cans that he found the source of the crying.

It was a boy, no older than four. He was crouched back into the smallest space he could fit into, his head buried in his arms. He was dirty, and his clothes were torn, but he didn't appear to be hurt. There were no other people around him. The child had scraggly brown hair, but that was all that Seraph could make out.

The ex-SOLDIER's heart sighed at the pitiful site, and he knew he couldn't just turn away and leave the youth to fend for himself. Monsters still roamed the city, and though they had stayed well enough away from his well-armed self and his anima, they wouldn't think twice about devouring a small child.

The man moved forward and knelt down in front of the child. His mind went blank as he was unaccustomed to talking to children. Seraph sighed to himself for a moment before deciding to just wing it.

"Hello; are you here alone?" he asked, voice soft and pleasant.

The child continued to sniff as he slowly raised his head to look at him, brown eyes red-rimmed and watery. His brown hair was falling into his face. He nodded once but did not say anything before his lower lip trembled; he began to sob once more.

"Where are your parents?"

The boy didn't respond, only shook his head from side to side as his body wracked with his sorrow. The child was obviously very miserable and probably hungry and scared as well. He dropped his head back into his arms.

Seraph watched him for a moment, pity rising in his heart. He couldn't just leave the boy on his own, he wouldn't survive. There wasn't much to it than to take the child with him. He sighed and held out a hand.

"What's your name?"

The boy raised his head and looked at him but didn't say anything. It was as if he had gone mute. He watched the dark-haired man for a moment, eyeing him warily before slowly unfolding his limbs and reaching out a small hand, several sizes smaller than Seraph's own.

The former General smiled softly before taking the boy's hand and climbing to his feet, the child rising with him. Just then, a stomach growled at the same moment that a somewhat dirty hand wiped angrily at tear marks across a face.

Seraph would have laughed in amusement if he had thought the kid wouldn't have become angry, scared, or would have run away.

The man reached around with one hand and dug into his pack before pulling out something similar to a granola bar. Not candy or anything tasty like a child would really enjoy, but it would help to push away the hunger pains. He unwrapped the granola and handed it to the brunet.

The kid took it, looked at it, and then took a tentative bite, chewing slowly. After a moment, he started to gobble the thing down, as if he hadn't eaten in days. Perhaps, he had not. Seraph couldn't be sure as the boy still wouldn't speak.

There was a noise at the mouth of the alley, and Seraph's head snapped up, instantly alert for signs of trouble. However, it was only Gilgamesh standing there with arms crossed and a strange look to his face. He regarded the dark-haired man with interest as Seraph slowly led the unnamed boy to the mouth of the alley.

"Who's the kid?" questioned the demi-god.

Seraph shrugged. "I don't know. He won't say anything, but he's all alone. I suspect his parents either abandoned him or they are dead."

Gilgamesh frowned and looked away. "They are dead."

"How…?"

The demi-god tilted a head at one of the nearby houses. "If this is where he lived, then they are dead. I will say no more except that there is a monster out there that is no longer hungry."

Seraph's face instantly darkened as his grip on the child's hand unconsciously tightened. Anger rose up within him on a tidal wave, and he wished that there was something in front of him that he could slay. If the boy had seen his parents killed… no wonder he was hiding behind the trash and refused to speak.

"No choice then," the dark-haired man murmured. "I'll have to take him with me until I can find somewhere for him to stay."

The demi-god shrugged his shoulders. "Not like I'm going to argue."

With that said, the ex-SOLDIER, the boy, and Gilgamesh walked further into Midgar. The child kept close to Seraph, occasionally clutching at his shirt as he angrily scrubbed at tears on his cheeks.

The dark-haired man was still appalled by the amount of destruction and death that Midgar represented. He could remember when ShinRa first talked of the glorious city that would be their home; how it was supposed to benefit everyone and be a place for those who would dream of a better life. With cheap energy and clean places to live, Midgar was supposed to be THE place to call home so that people could be protected by ShinRa.

But as always, greed was factored in, and it became nothing more than another way for the mega corporation to squeeze money out of the poor. The entire ShinRa family was genetic pricks, only craving gil and power rather than having any sense of honor or nobility. One man's dream of a bright future had become an entire city full of people's monetary nightmare. After all, ShinRa could be blamed for almost every problem that the people of Gaia had suffered. His creation included.

"You know…" began Gilgamesh. "As interesting as it is to walk with you and a child while you disappear within your head to brood, I've something I need to be doing."

Seraph raised a brow and eyed the demi-god. "What's holding you back then?" A strange tingling, almost like a warning, shot down the former General's spine, but he ignored it for the moment as the strange child tugged on his hand.

Gilgamesh shrugged. "Nothing." And with that, he promptly disappeared, giving no other warning. The green-eyed man sighed and searched his mind, not surprised that the demi-god was not even present there. He really had gone somewhere else.

"Well…" Seraph noted as he ruffled the brown hair of the child. He felt another tingle, but his attention was once more drawn to the brunet. "It's just you and m… oomph!"

A heavy weight crashed into him from behind, driving him down to the ground. His forehead struck a rock and he grunted with the impact, feeling his skin split on impact and blood start to run down his face. A creature had landed on top of him, growling hungrily with its thick claws digging into his skin and back. He could smell the fetid breath of the creature as it snapped at his neck, and he heard the child's frightened whimpers.

Seraph growled angrily, blinking blood out of his eyes as he threw his elbows backwards, slamming into bony, hair-covered shoulders. Saliva dripped onto the back of his neck, and he winced, bucking up with his body to throw the weight off of him. His attacker yelped and backed away when his head connected with its maw.

The former SOLDIER wasted no time in clambering to his feet and drawing his sword, free hand outstretched for the child. The brunet was quick to run to his side and cling to the front of his shirt, hiding his face in Seraph's clothes.

Mossy grey eyes darted around the area, widening in surprise. The child and he were surrounded by about two dozen brown shaggy wolves, all at least three-quarters his size, some even larger. He recognized their kind immediately, from his last mission as a part of ShinRa.

"Nibel Wolves…" he hissed under his breath, trying to plan some sort of attack. "What are they doing in Midgar?" The wolves gathered around and were bearing their teeth at him, slavering all over the ground and crouched as if they were prepared to attack. Unfortunately for the dark-haired man, the wolves were much stronger looking specimens than the usual members of their species.

For a moment, Seraph wished that Gilgamesh, annoying though he could be, had not disappeared to Kami knew where.

With a fierce growl, the dark-haired man had no time to think. Three of the creatures took it upon themselves to launch themselves at him, claws outstretched. He gripped the pommel of his sword tightly before slicing through the air faster than any eye could follow. The three wolves fell to the ground in twitching pieces with the former General looking down on them impassively. Before the rest could react, he quickly cast poison on a few to his right and threw a stream of fire at a few to his left. Yelping and shrieks of pain could be heard.

Seraph angrily wiped at the blood on his face, getting it out of his eyes as he waited for the others to attack. The child continued to snivel in his shirt, not that he considered him to be of any help.

For a moment – as a wolf attempted to pounce on his back, receiving a beheading for its troubles – the ex-SOLDIER dearly regretted his five year sabbatical in the Lifestream as he was still severely out of practice. His fighting skills had become rusty over the time, though he had managed to regain some of them over the last few months. However, he was still nowhere near his top fighting form, not to mention he was lacking his true weapon of choice, armor, and most of his materia. But at least Jenova was no longer in his head.

Another wolf leapt at them, aiming for the brunet and distracting Seraph's train of thought, but the man quickly cut the monster down, looking around for some type of escape. There were buildings to other side of him, and the wolves were around him at all sides, even behind him.

Suddenly, the wolves began to laugh, if the strange shrill, wheezing sound could be called a laugh. The noise of many bones breaking and cracking filled the air. Seraph's eyes widened as the so called Nibel Wolves began to twitch. His stomach tightened with queasiness, not unlike how he first felt when he came upon the Nibel reactor almost six years ago.

Something roiled beneath the fur of the wolves as their bodies convulsed and writhed, bones popping in and out of place. The monsters began to slowly stand on two feet as the strange wheezing laugh continued to echo throughout the area. Seraph was only glad that the boy's face was buried in his shirt and he couldn't see what was taking place. The lupine monsters were becoming more human, limbs twisting strangely and growing to grotesque size. He didn't even want to consider what had happened to make them able to do such a thing. He suspected Hojo might have had something to do with it.

One in the middle, the largest of them all with dingy, grey fur stood up nearly seven feet tall, laughing hoarsely. It settled its orange gaze on the former General and hissed.

"Foolish human…" it hissed at him, baring its teeth. "Resistance is futile. You shall be our food, especially the youngling."

Seraph tightened his grip on his sword and frowned angrily, baring his teeth right back at the not-wolf. "I will not fall to a pack of mangy wolves!"

The creature laughed again before cracking its neck. The other not-wolves around him prepared to jump, all fifteen or so of them planning on attacking him all at once.

In the same moment, the not-wolf that must have been the pack leader leapt at him as a gun shot resounded through the area. Seraph didn't see what or where the bullet came from, concentrating only on the rush of the much larger and heavier not-wolf.

Fang met blade, and Seraph struggled to fight off the claws that scraped at his front. He quickly shoved the child behind him with his free hand before digging deep inside himself for the strength to cast again, throwing flame into the belly of the larger not-wolf.

The leader growled and chomped down on his blade, trying to bite the borrowed sword in two as it ignored the flame against its belly. Seraph kicked out at one of the not-wolf's legs, snapping the bony appendage in two and causing the large creature to stumble as it stood. He didn't waste any time in elbowing the monster across the face and pulling back his sword from its maw before slicing it clean down the middle, a bit of blood splashing back onto his face. The not-wolf fell before him in a twisted form, allowing Seraph a view of the battle as another set of gunshots resounded through the area in the same moment as a bolt of lightning echoed in the tiny alley.

He caught a glimpse of blonde hair and twin swords flashing in the dim light, but that was all as the boy behind him whimpered and grabbed his shirt. Seraph turned just in time to gut another one of the not-wolf abominations and toss a Fire at a second. The strange monsters were relentless in their assault, the battle requiring his entire attention. He wished heartily that his Typhoon summon materia worked or that Gilgamesh had not left.

As another not-wolf threw itself at him, a second approaching from the left, Seraph was surprised to catch a head of long, bluish-black hair, slicing the not-wolf that had attempted to sneak up on him from behind. It looked remarkably like one of his old friends… but he could have sworn that somewhere in his shattered memories he had killed Tseng… in the Temple of the Ancients.

His moment of distraction almost cost him his life. The Nibel Wolf that had leapt at him wrapped its teeth around his sword arm, biting down and trying to rip his arm from his body. He gritted his teeth against the searing pain as what felt like poison ripped into his skin and muscle. While the boy cried silently into his clothes, the former General balled his hand into a fist and pounded the creature over the head mercilessly. The not-wolf whined but held on tenaciously as another jumped on to his back, claws digging into almost the same exact wounds that the first attack had caused. Seraph growled with pain as he wrestled with the one still attached to his arm.

There was another gunshot, and the weight from his back disappeared as the not-wolf yelped and released his back, most likely dead. He grabbed his sword with his free hand and slashed violently at the monster on his arm, killing it instantly.

"Tseng! Hit the deck!" called out a female voice, drawing Seraph's attention. His head snapped up, and he caught sight of a blonde woman wielding a rifle and facing a man, who the former General knew he recognized. The sound of lightning crackled through the air as she called out and slung her rifle over her shoulder.

Another snarl alerted Seraph to an attack from behind. His attention was stolen from the blonde he did not recognize and Tseng to the not-wolf and its twin that were leaping at him. The child whimpered and clutched at his shirt as he quickly turned his sword, not bothering to return it to the other hand and swung the already bloody weapon. His side protested the motion, but he fought through the pain, knowing that he would soon quickly heal on his own anyways. The not-wolves screeched and hissed before dying on his blade.

"Get down!" ordered a voice from behind. Seraph had no time to react before a body was barreling into him, arms wrapping around his waist and bringing him and the child to the ground hard. Instinctively, the ex-SOLDIER landed on his side, shielding the boy. He barely registered dark hair fluttering past his face even as his nose was distracted by the mysterious spicy scent that invaded his senses. It made him think of the dangerously forbidden.

"Raijin! Thunder storm!" called out a woman's voice, echoing around the small area.

However, Seraph had no more time to ponder that as suddenly lightning crackled throughout the area, striking the ground. The smell of sulfur began to pervade through the area and not-wolves started to cry out in pain.

"What in seven hells is going on?" Seraph demanded as he covered his head and tried not to crush the boy beside him.

"I wish I knew…" mumbled the man above him. At the sound of the voice, so near to his ear, the former General knew he hadn't been mistaken. It was the man he had thought he had killed, Tseng of the Turks, once just a trainee now commander.

Thunder rumbled above and the smell of scorched flesh was prevalent. The lightning barrage continued for several minutes until suddenly, it all fell silent. Tseng and Seraph both looked up to see that a small, smoky fog had settled over the area and the blonde woman was standing by herself, head tilted to one side as if speaking to someone.

The Wutaiian moved off of the former General hurriedly, blushing faintly as he called out to the woman. "Elena? What happened?" he asked as he moved to help the stranger getting to his feet, surprised to find that the man looked vaguely familiar, though the Turk couldn't quite place from where. The stranger's eyes were a smoky green ,and his hair was black with silvery streaks, but there something recognizable in his facial features. Tseng couldn't shake the feeling that he knew him somehow…

Elena shook her head. "I'm not sure," she explained. "Are you and your son alright?" she finished, rushing over to where Seraph and the dark-haired Turk were slowly getting to their feet. Her gun was slung over her shoulder, and her skin still crackled somewhat with electricity.

The former general locked eyes with his would-be rescuer for a moment, almost mesmerized by the silver. His face felt hot, and he realized that he was blushing, if only slightly.

The ex-SOLDIER fought the urge to shift nervously. "He's not my son," Seraph explained, tearing his eyes away and looking around for his dropped sword. Tseng turned away from the former general, his sharp eyes instantly spotting the weapon lying a few feet away.

Elena dropped to one knee, bringing herself eye level with the brunet boy. "Hey," she said softly, giving him a big smile. The child regarded her with sad eyes, idly wiping tears from his face. "What's your name?"

Seraph shook his head. "He doesn't speak… at least, not to me anyways." He instinctively placed his hands on the boy's shoulders to steady him.

The Wutaiian frowned as he walked over to the fallen weapon, absentmindedly stepping over the bodies of the electrified not-wolves. He kneeled slightly and picked it up.

"Where are his parents then, if he isn't your child?"

"The monsters killed them. I was hoping to find someone to take care of him," Seraph responded, squeezing the boy's shoulders gently.

Tseng handed the green-eyed man his sword and exchanged glances with Elena. She shrugged slightly and returned her attentions to the child.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to me?" She dug into her pocket, producing some sort of chocolate confection. "Not even for some candy?"

The boy's eyes widened considerably as he eyed the plastic wrapped food, nodding slowly.

"Will you tell me your name?" she asked once more, holding out the candy to him. He took it quickly, opening the wrapper and taking a big bite of the chocolate, his eyes sparkling.

"Dnnnsbell," he mumbled around a mouthful of candy.

Elena laughed quietly and ruffled his hair. "You are so cute. Can you tell me after swallowing the candy?"

He nodded, taking a deep gulp before speaking again. "Denzel," replied the brunet before chomping down on his chocolate once again.

The blonde laughed and slowly stood to her feet, inclining her head towards Tseng as she did so, as if agreeing with him on something. Seraph gave them a strange look.

"We'll take him to Strife's," clarified Tseng, idly wiping his brow.

Seraph looked up startled from where he had been cleaning the borrowed sword, only halfway paying attention to what the Wutaiian and the blonde were discussing.

"Cloud?" he questioned, instantly regretting the slip of the tongue.

Elena raised a brow, surprise registered in her brown eyes. "You know him?"

"Eh…" The former general desperately cast about in his mind for a good reason other than the obvious truth. "I used to be in the ShinRa army a long time ago. Hard to forget a weird name like Strife… much less Cloud," he lied.

The blonde snickered. "True."

Tseng shook his head in admonishment. "That's quite enough, Elena Elric." His voice was vaguely monotone as he appeared to consider the origin of the Nibel Wolves… and the odd strange resemblance of the stranger. "Apparently, someone's parents like alliteration," he murmured.

Elena's eyes widened in surprise. "Boss! Those files are supposed to remain a secret!" A small flush spread across her cheekbones, tinting her cheeks a rosy hue.

The Wutaiian, however, ignored her, turning towards the stranger. "Which brings to mind… we never asked for your name…?" It was a question more than a statement.

Seraph stuck out one black gloved hand. "Seraph Noire," he introduced himself.

"Black Angel…" Tseng murmured. "That is how your name translates. I find that interesting." He took the hand and shook it in greeting, eyeing the other dark-haired man thoughtfully. "You are decent with a sword, and you say you were once in ShinRa… what brings you to Midgar?"

The former General was again faced with another question he had to rapidly find an answer to. He decided to build on his earlier story and somewhat rely on the truth.

"I'm looking for someone… an acquaintance you could say… that I knew from my past."

Elena laughed as she idly checked her gun for damage and reloaded the bullets. Denzel was watching them with wide eyes, as if he could truly follow their conversation, and he was observing Elena with hopeful, brown eyes, probably hoping she had another chocolate somewhere on her person.

"This acquaintance have a name?" she inquired.

Seraph nodded, frantically searching his mind for a name that hopefully was unknown to them. "Caryn… Caryn Weathers. The last information I found he was sent to work in Hojo's lab in Midgar. I was hoping I could find some information there about where he was sent next…"

Tseng shook his head as he sighed. "That's unfortunate… Hojo's lab was destroyed. Elena and I blew it to pieces under orders of the President."

The dark-haired man sighed. Internally, he was cursing violently, wondering what he was going to do now. "Great. So much for coming to Midgar…" he muttered to himself.

"However," the Turk commander began. "There may yet be some documents in the ShinRa building. We could take you there."

Seraph nodded. "Thank you. That would be helpful."

"Good. Well, no use standing here. The monsters still roam this area, and we need to get this child somewhere safe," suggested Elena, frowning at the beaten scattered bodies of the wolves and not-wolves.

Tseng inclined his head in acknowledgment. "We will talk later about what happened earlier. Let's go."

**----**


	26. That Which Was Lost

**Thanks to all my readers and reviewers!**

**Chapter 26: That Which Was Lost**

A most familiar cavern on the other side of the world still filled with demons, numbers greater than ever before it seemed. The monsters, the creatures, the nightmares were multiplying so quickly that before one died three were there to take its place. Some had never even been seen before on the face of Gaia, the produce of one scientist's sick mind; they were rebuilt, mutated, and reproduced.

The creatures clung to every surface: ceiling, wall, floor, and occasionally each other, slithering and sliding across the barren rock, touch like poison to even the strongest rock. They hissed and cackled, yellow and crimson eyes flashing with brutality. Mouths full of fangs bit and snapped as blood-stained claws scratched marks in the walls and occasionally each other.

The stench that rose from such a gathering of creatures was unbearable, not that they minded. Occasional fights would break out among them, leaving broken, bloody bodies on the floor, though some didn't last long due to the hungry creatures. Altogether, it was a place no human would dare tread.

The monsters were celebrating.

Victory was at hand! The humans were beneath their taloned feet. Soon they would be free to burn and destroy with no opposition. The Planet would crumble, the world becoming a wasteland. Indeed, it would be glorious. Only a short time now… only a matter of steps before the humans were so completely beaten and cowering in fear… only…

"Silence!" the loud voice boomed through every corridor, every nook, and every cranny, reaching the ear of every monster and repeating the command. The demons immediately fells silent, none able to push down the fear that rose within them at the voice.

Balaam was powerful, terrifying, methodic and relentless in his anger, murderous in his fury. His power was greater than any gathered, even in his weakened state, and his thirst for blood was unmatched.

He craved the destruction of the humans and their ilk and desired the fall of the demi-gods, especially those traitors Erebus and Baal. He sneered at their names and vowed for blood shed, eyes glinting in madness. His hatred was unquenchable and only served to fuel his drive to see the world destroyed, dead at his hands. He would be Lord and Master of a desolate world, and it would be perfect… the ultimate "fuck you" to Kami for locking him away.

All eyes fell to the throne, where the pulsating shadow was located. More time had passed, and Balaam was becoming even stronger. Limbs were slowly starting to form, and his basic shape was beginning to define. His eyes had more fire, more fury, and of course, the aura of power was so thick in the room that it was difficult to even breathe or think especially beneath the penetrating glare.

"Status report!" he demanded, glaring down at his minions. "I want to know how it went."

"Junon was completely destroyed," spoke up one creature with large soulless eyes and a prickly exterior. It had a big mouth and constantly fidgeted as if filled with boundless energy. "Survivors are being picked off one by one by a small contingency even as we speak." His voice was rather high-pitched and squeaky, very grating on the ears.

The purple blob-like monster stepped forward, robes swishing across the ground. "Isis put up a fight, for a time, but Cosmo Canyon was nonetheless crushed beneath my fist." He chuckled darkly before adding one more detail. "I even killed her animus."

"Though much of Midgar was damaged, the attack failed," mumbled a small demon, yellow lizard eyes wide with fear as it covered on the floor. "Hephaestion, that foul demi-god, protected the city, while Mabuz was defeated by two humans, Seiryu, and Tiamet."

His words sent a murmur of surprise through those gathered. Mabuz, defeated? The humans were connecting with their anima? Was a resistance forming?

Balaam growled, shadow convulsing on the throne. The entire cavern fell silent and the lone demon whimpered before lying prostrate on the ground. The demi-god on the throne ignored the cowering creature.

"And what of Wutai?" demanded Balaam. "Was it crushed?"

"Mostly," lisped Daunte. "The town was obliterated, but most of the humans survived. As you well know, Aclepious' shield is the strongest defense of the pantheon."

The gathered shadows flexed. "No matter. The fear is what is important. And right now, the humans are frightened."

"It is the perfect time to crush them then, while they are weak and insecure," hissed a large red-scaled lizard draped in thick brown robes.

"I don't want them to just die; I want them to suffer as well," hissed Balaam. "Everything is going according to plan. For now, we back off, build our forces, raise my army, and let them think it's all over. Let them believe in peace. And once the time is right…" he paused, eyes glittering with madness," … we destroy their dreams and raze the land to the ground!"

A cheer rose up from those gathered. It seemed nothing could stop them. The humans were on the run, and there was naught they could do.

"And what of the knights?" questioned a random demon from the crowd. Almost immediately, the group fell quiet in respect as they waited for Balaam to respond.

The demon king growled angrily. "What of them?"

"Forgive our questioning, but have they submitted to our rule yet?" questioned Daunte, idly flipping an edge of his cloak over his shoulder. "Are their power ours to have?"

The shadow on the throne flexed angrily, the entire room darkening. Balaam prepared to respond when another voice resounded through the area.

"I believe I shall be the one to answer that," the definitively female voice said. The ranks of demons and monsters began to part as a woman with shocking red hair and a white lab coat walked through, booted feet clomping noisily against the stone scattered ground. She had thick black glasses and her messy kinked hair was swept back with a tattered brown scarf, to match the dull brown of her eyes. Her hands were in her pockets and she wasn't the most attractive of humans.

Balaam growled and flexed his ghostly body once more. "You'd better have good news to be risking death by walking in here, Hojo."

The woman waved a hand of dismissal. "I thought I told you. Hojo is dead. Just call me Alice."

"Get on with it!" demanded the angry king of monsters.

She sighed unattractively and shifted in her position, performing something that would have been seductive if there was anything attractive about her. The red-head snorted and idly flicked a piece of hair out of her face.

"I have finished the last of the control chips. Implanting has been marginally successful, but for all intents and purposes, the knights are no longer a nuisance."

A small cheer resonated throughout the crowd. They had all been eagerly awaiting the turnover of the knights, knowing that their powers would make their side nearly unstoppable. The humans would be able to do nothing against the magic and strength of the knights.

Controlling them had been an issue, especially Arthur. The king was very strong-minded and fought them to the last second, but none of the knights were prepared for the scientific and evil genius of Alice Hojo and the last remnants of research by her husband. In the end, there was nothing they could do.

"How soon before I can use them against the humans?" hissed Balaam, interrupting the cheers of the creatures.

She frowned and inspected the dirt beneath her fingernails. "They are ready now, I suppose. I'm eager to see if the chips will eat their minds like I think they will."

Balaam laughed, the low sound hoarse and mocking. "I've always appreciated the work of Hojo. From the stunning results of your husband upon the host to what you've done now. You're humans that ought to have been demons."

Alice smirked as she smoothed down the front of her blood-stained lab coat. "Nice to know the genius has been appreciated. I'm off to test this newest enhancer, something to do with mako and such, highly technical, I won't bore you with the details." With that said, she swept from the room, the demons again making room for her to pass.

The shadowed hand of Balaam waved at the gathered demons and monsters. "Carrying on with your celebration."

Cackles of laughter and cheers resounded quickly and the volume level fast climbing. The monsters were beside themselves with glee, convinced that they were on the path to victory.

Daunte shook his head at their stupidity and wove through the careening creatures, approaching Balaam. He could see the crimson eyes of his king watching him warily and had to suppress the urge to shudder. The demi-god king was a true menace, and he could feel no sympathy for the humans that would dare take him on in his completed form.

"With the knights within our control, nothing can stop us," hissed Daunte, "But unless we can find the host, there is still the chance we can be resealed. He still has Azamat's orb, and my minion is still looking to reclaim Mabuz…" he trailed off as Balaam held out a shadowed hand to stop him.

"We will raze every town on this planet to the ground. Even rats come out when fire threatens. The host will be found, and he will be destroyed."

"Might I suggest the Sahuagin?"

Balaam eyed Daunte. "I wasn't aware they were complete."

The demi-god sighed and lifted a hand of annoyance. "Alice left that little tidbit out. They've been complete for awhile now. They should be able to find and destroy the host within a week."

If his face was visible, Daunte was sure that Balaam would have frowned, so evident was his frustration by the angry exhale of air. "Very well then. Give the order. The Sahuagin are to track down and destroy the host."

Daunte bowed and excused himself from Balaam's presence, leaving the demon king to brood on his own while hordes of monsters celebrated around him.

---

Crimson-stained claws scraped around in the dirt as bright orange eyes carefully scrutinized the ground. Its wings fluttered against its back, eager to take to the skies as it occasionally gave nervous glances over its shoulder. The demon was in enemy territory but it had also been given an order, and this creature was nothing if not obedient.

It had been told to search for a specific item. One small black marble, clouded with a dark grey interior and barely bigger than the pad of his thumb. It would be unobtrusive, it would be small, but the little demon should be able to sense out the small pulse of dark power. At least, that was what it had been told.

He growled frustrated and fluttered to another spot, swiping at the dusty ground with an irritated paw and glancing once more over its shoulder, convinced an axe or dagger would be heading for its unprotected back at any moment.

Something pulsed beneath a claw and the creature yelped, drawing back for a moment in fear, eyes falling on the spot where he had just been standing. There was a glint as some item caught the light of the fading suns. It crouched and crept closer, poking once at the mysterious object. It rolled out of the small cubby hole it had accommodated, covered in thick brown dirt.

Curious, the demon picked it up and examined it, idly rubbing off the dirt. He was pleased to find that the object was small and round, and beneath the soil, it was black with a dark grey interior. He had found it.

Chuckling darkly to itself, the monster spread its wings and took to the sky. Wouldn't his master be pleased?

---

Rude was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms folded over his chest as he watched his wife hum softly while distractedly cleaning the kitchen. He could easily make out her rounded belly and couldn't help his smile of happiness. She was so beautiful, and he knew how astoundingly lucky he was to have her.

He remembered the first time he saw her, following Cid Highwind like a little lost puppy. She was beautiful even then, with her big brown eyes and long hair. He used to joke with Reno about how he always had a thing for brunettes; including the short crush he had on Tifa… that bitch.

He recalled his first mission to Rocket Town when he ran into her once more. She was flustered by his attentions, surprised by his interest and still completely head over heels for Highwind. However, he had faith in his own ability to win her over.

And win her, he had. She was his wife now and Rude found Shera was entirely worth the wait.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Rude stole quietly into the kitchen and caught his wife from behind, wrapping his arms around her and placing his chin on her shoulder.

"Mmm," she made a pleased sound in the back of her throat as she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "I knew you were there," the brunette commented.

He smiled. "Was it that obvious?"

"I can always tell when I'm being ogled," she teased in return, patting a hand on his arm.

He didn't respond, only nuzzled her neck gently, content to hold her in his arms. Until her stomach growled noisily, interrupting the moment.

Shera laughed. "I guess I'd better cook dinner, huh?"

"Hmm," contemplated Rude. "Why don't we go out to eat? You know Varin built a restaurant conjoined with the inn. We could go there."

The brunette went quiet for a moment. "I though we were going to cut back on unnecessary costs?"

Rude quirked an eyebrow. "Taking you out to dinner is most assuredly a necessary cost. Besides, remember that job with the business man? I know its going to work out."

"Well," began Shera. "So long as you are offering, and I am eating for two now…"

The bald man chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Go get your stuff, and we'll go."

She squeezed his hand and stepped out of his embrace. "Might I consider this a date?"

Rude winked in response. "Be careful, we can't let my wife know." Shera laughed and darted away to go get her jacket, shaking a finger at him.

A few minutes later, the two locked up their home and headed for the new restaurant attached to the inn. They were greeted as they traveled the streets of Rocket Town, the both of them pretty well known in town. Rude had an arm around his wife, and she in turn had an arm wrapped around him. There was a smile on Shera's face, and the two looked completely in love.

Shera smiled up at Rude contentedly as she placed a hand on her belly. It was not long before they found themselves standing outside the newly redone inn with its brand new elegant sign.

Rude moved forward and opened the door for his wife, allowing her to enter before him. She smiled at her husband and walked in, noting with surprise at the changed décor. What had once been a plain and rather boring entranceway to the small inn was now decorated with stunning landscapes and entrancing tapestries. The plain light bulb had been replaced with a simple yet elegant chandelier, and the reception desk had been upgraded. There were a small number of people milling about and talking as they waited to be seated at the upper class restaurant, which Shera could just barely see through the door to her left.

It was at the reservation desk that she caught a glimpse of a man wearing a dark, grey cloak with his long, black hair tied back. Shera was jealous of the outsider's hair as it was prettier than any females she had seen, including her own. From behind, he seemed very travel weary with his mud splattered cloak and slumped shoulders. The stranger was talking with the clerk, apparently trying to get a room. Insanely curious, Shera listened in on the conversation. Rude stepped up beside her, idly scanning the room as well. They would have to wait like the others to be seated, so there was no rush.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are all booked up for the evening. We've not that many rooms to begin with, and tourists are becoming more frequent," the desk clerk explained, shaking his head. Shera could hear the man's soft spoken reply, finding it very pleasing to her ears.

"That's unfortunate," came the quiet tone, smooth and sultry with a slight Gongagan accent not unlike Rude's. He only spoke with it when he wasn't paying enough attention, such as when he was having a heated 'discussion' with her. "I was interested in sleeping within four walls. Is there another town beyond here?"

The clerk frowned slightly. "Yes, sir, but they are quite a ways away, at the far coast. You'd probably do better to go to Nibelheim, just over the mountains to the south."

The man sighed, looking faintly off to the right, allowing Shera a brief glimpse of the side of his face. She gasped quietly, believing he looked very familiar. Rude frowned slightly, looking to his wife in concern as she nudged him to look at the man as well. Her eyes were wide with hope, almost missing what the stranger said next.

The outsider continued, "I've just come from there. You are telling me I have to turn around the way I came to find another town, retracing all of my steps?"

The clerk nodded, glancing once more at the registration book on the desk in front of him and eyeing the line of customers behind the stranger.

"I think that's Vincent," Shera explained in a whisper, not taking her eyes off of the dark-haired man. "We have to do something."

Rude nodded. He wasn't very good at recognizing faces, that was always Reno's job, so he relied on Shera. "Invite him to stay with us. Tell him about Highwind's airship. I think he's lost his memory, if he is indeed Valentine." He was already reaching for his pocket, where he kept his PHS.

Shera smiled just as the dark-haired man sighed and turned from the desk, allowing her a full view of his features.

Gone were the haunting scarlet eyes and the frightening golden claw, but the man was unmistakably Vincent Valentine. She would know his face anywhere, even though she hadn't spent much time around him. She often remembered Vincent as being one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen; he was obviously masculine but also very beautiful. She also caught a glimpse of a gun beneath the folds of his cloak. Before he could walk past her and disappear again, she spoke up.

"Excuse me," she called out, catching his eye. He paused in his steps, inclining his head in her direction.

"Yes?" he questioned with a raised brow.

Shera smiled, idly rubbing her belly. "I couldn't help but overhear…" she began. "My husband and I have a spare room, and my brother owns an airship. He's coming here tomorrow and would be more than happy to give you a lift somewhere."

He furrowed his brow, a look of surprise registering on his face. "You would do that… for a stranger?" he questioned.

The brunette stuck out her hand in greeting. He took it slowly. "I'm Shera Alexander," she gestured towards Rude. "This is my husband, Rude."

His eyes widened at the sound of her name. It was familiar to him somehow. A brief flash of memory sparked in his mind, going by so fast he could not catch it. All he saw was brown hair and a vague sparkle of the number eight.

"I'm Vincent…" he returned, trailing off. That was the most he knew.

Shera smiled. "Now, we are no longer strangers. Our offer is still open…?"

"I appreciate the kindness," he responded, bowing his head slightly. Just then, Shera's stomach growled. They still had not eaten.

She laughed, a bit embarrassed. "I guess I am a bit hungry."

"We can go home," Rude intruded. "I'll cook for us all."

The brunette smiled. "Sounds good to me. Coming, Vincent?"

He nodded, following the odd couple out the door. He was glad to be going somewhere warm and soft for the night. After camping out the night before in the Nibelheim Mountains, constantly alert for monster attacks and trying to get comfortable, he was willing to risk the kindness of strangers. Erebus had excused himself at some point, disappearing to Kami-sama knows where.

He walked only slightly behind the couple, casually observing their behavior. They were so plainly in love, which was clearly obvious from the shared glances to the soft touches. He knew the female was pregnant; she positively glowed with happiness. He couldn't help but feel envious of their feelings, wanting something like that for himself, even as he knew somewhere inside that there was someone out there for him.

"So… where are you from?"

The question caught him off guard. Vincent hadn't been expecting it. He looked up to find Shera gazing at him, as though she already knew the answer to the question. Her husband and she paused in their movements, allowing him time to catch up. He stepped up his pace so they wouldn't have to wait.

"I'm not entirely sure, though I last remember being in Gongaga," he replied honestly, waiting for their startled reactions. He was surprised when none came. Instead Shera nodded politely.

She gestured towards her husband. "Rude was born and raised in Gongaga. His mother still lives there now. I heard they had some trouble down there…"

Vincent paled but struggled to maintain his composure. His guilt hit him full force, nearly causing him to stagger with the sudden attack of his conscience.

"Aye…" he said slowly. "A band of demons ransacked the town."

Rude nodded. "My mother called to tell me she was fine. She made mention of a man named Zack who killed them all. Did you know him?"

The dark-haired man shook his head negatively. "No one named Zack exists anymore," he responded gravely.

The couple exchanged glances but didn't say anything more on the subject. They continued on their walk in silence for several more moments before Rude spoke.

"You walked here from Gongaga?" the bald man questioned. "That's quite a distance. Searching for anything in particular?"

His back twinged painfully but he ignored it. "Something very important," the other male answered enigmatically. "I lost it, and now, I am trying to find it." He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts, and absentmindedly rubbed his scarred hand. "You said you had a friend that could give me transport?"

Shera nodded as they approached the house, dropping back a few feet to wrap her arm in Vincent's. "His name is Captain Highwind, surely you've heard of him?" Her brown eyes searched his face beseechingly as Rude opened the door to their home and gestured them inside.

Highwind…

"Hm… what is there for me now? Having seen the stars…"

""I always thought this planet was so huge. But looking down on it from space, I realized it is so small. We are just floating in the dark… it made me feel powerless. On top of all that, it has Sephiroth festerin' inside it like a damn sickness." A smile broke out on his face as he revealed the fruit of his ponderings. He rubbed his face, hand trailing across the stubble that seemed always present. His voice was rough yet soothing...

Vincent shook his head. His memory was nearly useless as were the scattered fragments. The sky? A rocket? Seeing the stars? He knew nothing of any of it. He ignored the sparks of pain in his shoulder blades and returned his attention to the pregnant brunette, leading him through her home.

"It sounds vaguely familiar," the dark-haired commented man. "I believe someone in Nibelheim might have mentioned him."

Rude turned around startled from where he had been flipping on lights as he led them through the house. "You were in Nibelheim?" He knew of the town's significance for Vincent Valentine.

The grey-eyed man frowned. "Isn't it necessary to travel through there to get here?"

The dark-skinned nodded. "Yes, but… never mind. What would the two of you like to eat?" He changed subjects as they emerged into the kitchen, Shera and their guest taking a seat at the table.

"Something simple," Shera commented. "I think we are both to hungry to wait for something that would take awhile." She smiled up at her husband.

He nodded in understanding and set some water to boil. Shera started talking to Vincent, and he took that as his cue.

Rude excused himself for a moment from the kitchen, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He dialed the Captain's number, now that Vincent was distracted by Shera. The phone rang three times before it was answered.

"Highwind," Cid responded, voice only slightly angry and annoyed.

"It's Rude," the dark-skinned man responded simply, idly running hand over his bald head. It was a nervous habit.

Cid coughed, and Rude could hear some noise going on in the background. "Yeah?" the Captain questioned. "What's up? Shera finish those figures?"

The former Turk cleared his throat. "No. We've found him, Cid."

For a moment, the pilot couldn't breathe. He knew without asking who the dark-skinned man meant. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Shera believes so. I'm not that good with faces, but I trust her. His looks have changed somewhat, I don't quite know what happened and neither does he. Vincent doesn't remember anything, especially not who he really is. Shera and I haven't told him either. We wanted to leave that to you."

The blond couldn't stop his heart from pounding. "Look, Rude, I'm in Wutai. I can be there in less than forty-five minutes. Whatever you do, don't let him leave."

Rude nodded although the Captain couldn't see him. "I know. See you soon." The pilot didn't even say good bye before hanging up. The phone went dead in Rude's hands.

He smiled faintly before shoving the phone into his pocket and returning to the kitchen. Shera looked up as he did so, a question in her brown eyes. He nodded once in explanation. She smiled and returned to her conversation with Vincent.

Rude went back to his cooking, believing that the world would now return to some semblance of normal. Perhaps Cid could be happy again…

----

Soon, I promise, the wanted reunion will be soon!


	27. Fallen

**Chapter 27: Fallen**

"Reeve!"

Reno's strangled cry carried a short distance, barely able to be heard above the sounds of the frightened Wutaiians as they ran about to get away from the new menace. He stared in horror as one of the creatures attached itself to the Highwind despite what had to have been Cid's brilliant piloting. The deadly roar of the beasts could be heard, echoing through the air. The remaining four continued to circle, eyeing both the struggling airship and the already beaten town below.

Beside him, Asclepius stirred and murmured, "Not them…" He seemed to come back to himself, speaking louder, "The Bandragora are like nothing you've faced before," he said, his voice strangely somber. "They are demi-gods and all brothers. There is only one way they could have gotten here, being as they are not summons, and that is if their mother called them here." He frowned and glared at the circling creatures. "I fear that means we have lost another from our side."

Reno shook his head. "I don't care what they are, only that they are threatening the man I love. Are you going to help?"

The demi-god looked at him and smiled, resisting the urge to giggle. "I wouldn't let you down, yo," replied Asclepius as his body shimmered, quickly shifting into his much larger form. He was not a physical fighter, but he would neither stand idly by while lives were in danger.

The sound of gunfire and explosions drew the Turks attentions back towards the sky. Cid had fired his artillery on the Highwind and was driving his attackers back. Reno could just barely make out four forms standing on the deck, but from the distance he couldn't catch their identities.

Suddenly, all four people dove from the deck, and the Turk gasped in surprise. The air around the airship began to shimmer before the roar of two regal dragons echoed all around him. With a flash, a silver dragon and a misty, grey one, scales twinkling in the light, materialized in front of the Highwind, each one with a rider on its back.

"Seiryu and Tiamat…" Asclepius murmured as he watched the proceedings with shining eyes. He couldn't hold back the awe from his voice.

Reno glanced quickly at his anima with confusion before returning his gaze to what was going on above. "Who?" he asked just as the area around the Highwind pulsed once and repelled the Bandragore attached to it. The creature roared in pain before releasing the airship and flying away by a few feet. A shield now encased the Highwind… apparently Reeve had loaned Cid his Barrier materia, and the pilot was using it to protect his livelihood.

"You mortals would know them as Bahamut and Myst Dragon. They are two of the most powerful demi-gods in existence," answered Asclepius.

Tiamat barreled into a Bandragore, fangs bared as she slashed at the creature with her claws, blood raining down from the wounds. She sucked in a deep breath and breathed her poisonous gas upon them, watching with satisfaction as his skin bubbled and hissed beneath her. The creature whipped his tail about, deeply spiked appendage heading straight for the Myst Dragon's unprotected head.

But he had forgotten about her passenger. Archer sat up and turned, blocking the enormous tail and spike with his axe. He didn't hesitate in pushing back against it with his strength before slashing viciously, knocking off several of the spiny thorns. As the guardian pulled his tail back, Kyle grabbed on to it and flew off Tiamat's back, only to land with a somewhat graceful flip on the back of the Bandragore that she was fighting.

"His skin is poison," Tiamat cried out, startled to find her animus hacking at the guardian from the creature's back. She slashed viciously with her talons, tearing a gash the size of her forelimb in the Bandragore's exposed mid-section. The misty dragon quickly dodged to avoid the snapping jaws of the Bandragore's twin maws. He keened in anger and ripped at her foreleg with the back of its own, razor-sharp talon causing a small gash. Crimson blood fell from the sky, dotting the ground where it fell.

"Don't worry about me!" Kyle demanded, clinging tightly to the Bandragore as he crawled up the creature's back to his head, determined to take him down as quickly as possible. "Poison has no effect!"

The words were barely out of his mouth before a second Bandragore barreled into Tiamat from the side, knocking her free of her first battle, engaging her in an altogether new one, and leaving her animus alone to deal with the already battered guardian. She snarled and bit, calling up another poison gas cast to deal with the new Bandragore. He hissed in pain but did not release his hold on her shoulder, fangs biting into the junction of her wing with her joint.

The crackling of lightning resounded through the air, whizzing out of the corner of her eye to strike a third Bandragore, this one smaller than most of the others. Seiryu and Reeve flew past, the President with a fierce look of determination on his face as he prepared another spell. He quickly threw out another Bolt 3 before casting Comet, aiming the giant ball of rock for the Bandragore that had a grip in Tiamat's shoulder.

It struck with full force against the guardians back, and the clear snapping of a spine could be heard. Tiamat wasted no time in aiming for the throat, her ancient jaws closing quickly around the slimy and rather disgusting flesh. She fought down the urge to vomit as she tore out his throat, causing it to release her shoulder and gasp, blood gurgling from his mouth. The other head screamed in anger, eyes widened in horror and surprise. His grip on her body loosened as it fought to release its pain.

Tiamat forced herself away from her opponent, eyes quickly scanning the sky for sight of her animus. She found him just in time to watch the death blow. Flapping her wings with great strength, she sped across the sky, plucking Archer out of the sky before he could fall with the guardian's corpse.

Yet, instead of hitting the ground as a dead body should, the dead Bandragore began to quickly disintegrate in a bright series of slashes before it completely disappeared from sight. Anima and animus watched in surprise as the guardian was no more, only the crimson stains on the ground a sign of it ever having been there.

"What the hell?" Archer questioned, tightening a bloody grip on the handle of his axe.

Tiamat shook her regal head, flapping her wings to keep them steady although her shoulder burned with the pain of the poisoned fangs of the Bandragore. She knew it would heal with time, but for the moment, it was a painful distraction.

"They must have returned to the gates at Elysium." She explained, "You cannot kill a demi-god…"

A sound of an explosion to their right forced both of them to return their attention to the battle at hand. Reeve had just cast a Freeze on one of the creatures, while Seiryu had breathed his elemental flame upon another. It writhed in pain but did not stop his advancement. The monster flew straight at the anima/animus fighting duo, rage and murder evident in his blank and soulless eyes.

Beneath them, Reno and Asclepius were building a shield around Wutai to protect them should the Bandragora attack. The amount of power it took to sustain a shield over an entire city severely drained the both of them but they were determined that no one should die.

The guardian attacking Reeve and Seiryu screeched angrily as the elemental fire burned a hole through one of his wings. The silver dragon prepared to meet him when a second Bandragore mauled into him from below, taking his attention. The breath was momentarily knocked form his body as he tried to avoid the swinging spikes of the creature's tail and the flailing sharp claws. The guardian's skin was slick with poison, and Seiryu could feel it burning at his scales.

A cry of surprise alerted the demi-god to his animus' predicament. The attacking Bandragore from before had snatched him up by his talons, claws digging painfully into the executive's body as he was taken from the silver dragon's back and born away into the air. Reeve struggled to break free, face paling at the pain that assailed his lower back and shoulder. He could feel slivers of the acidic poison starting to creep through his clothing and slide down the back of his neck, not at all a pleasant feeling. He hurriedly cast a Heal over himself, trying to stave off any effects of the vile poison.

Seiryu roared and tried to break free of his attacker, but another guardian barreled into him from the side, nearly knocking all three from the sky. Sharp claws dug into his back, ripping through the strength of scales and slicing into the soft flesh beneath. The pain was excruciating, but the silver dragon fought through, viciously struggling in the grip of both Bandragora.

Reno gasped and immediately called out to his demi-god, praying that the little one would have enough time to make it. Reeve was clenched tightly in the monster's grip, and there was no one around to save him, both dragons involved with a one-on-one fight with a Bandragore.

"Asclepius, hurry!" the Turk urged.

The demi-god nodded. "Got it, yo!" The large form of the demi-god sped up, his four legs eating up the distance as they headed for the area where Reeve was flying above the ground, in the grip of the enemy.

The executive, however, was determined not to be thought of as weak. He twisted his wrist, one of his throwing knives quickly falling into his grip. He had designed the system after the battle with Sephiroth and was very glad that he had decided to upgrade. As his attacker increased its strength, trying to squeeze his breath from his body, Reeve called a spell to mind, quickly throwing at the claw and limb that was wrapped around him.

Frozen shards of ice darted from his hand, striking the flesh. It wasn't painful to the guardian, but it shocked him enough to loosen his hold, allowing the executive to pull an arm free and aim for one of the guardian's heads, sighting onto the eyes. The creature banked to the left, allowing the executive a clear shot. Without another thought he let fly. The dagger soared through the air before sailing into one of the eyes of the left head.

The Bandragore roared in pain as his eyeball popped, blood rolling quickly out of the socket and down his face. The guardian's claw reflexively relaxed, and Reeve was released. The executive gasped, his stomach feeling as if it had dropped out of him. He tried to catch a breath, finding it difficult as the air whooshed around him. For that moment he felt weightless, as he struggled to glance around him. He realized with sinking horror that there was no one to catch him… Seiryu and Tiamat were both struggling to fend off the Bandragora.

The death cry of a guardian resounded through the sky as one of the remaining four was beaten down, disappearing into a shattering of nothingness. Reno stared with horror as his lover fell into the arms of oblivion and urged his anima even faster. It was possible… he could do it.

Reno darted forward, his heart leaping into his throat. Just a few more feet… his arms outstretched and with a slight thud, the executive landed safely in his arms, nearly knocking the breath from his body. Reeve slammed into him, Asclepius oomphing under the weight. Acting unconsciously, the Turk wrapped his arms around his lover and held him close, breathing in thankfully of the amber-eyed man's most familiar scent.

Reeve could only gasp with surprise as he twisted to turn and see the man who had caught him. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the one he had been searching for and was worried after.

"Reno! You're safe!" the executive exclaimed, immediately throwing his arms around the red-haired Turk. His heart was filled nearly to bursting with joy.

The younger man smirked. "I could say the same for you, yo."

Reeve didn't wait for him to say anything more, too overjoyed to see him once more. He reached forward and grabbed the Turk, pulling him as closely as he was able and kissing him full on the lips, all of his passion and love being sent through that one joining. Reno eagerly returned the affection, leaning into the kiss and parting his lips, swiping his tongue across the older man's flesh. He groaned as familiar feeling spread through him and a burst of feeling rose in his heart. He wondered why he even left in the first place.

When he felt he had made his proper greeting, Reeve gave one final lick and nip before pulling back slightly, looking aquamarine to amber with his lover. The man he had promised to marry and the one person he had never wanted to fail but irrevocably had.

"I'm sorry," Reeve said after a moment, and he meant it. He understood just then exactly what he had done wrong.

Reno grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but the roar of a Bandragore interrupted him. They both turned their attention to the sky in time to see one of the guardians bearing down on them, one of his eyes bleeding. It was the one that had tried to kill Reeve.

The executive frowned and quickly scanned through his materia, realizing with a sinking feeling that he had no more energy to cast magic. He would to have to rely on his daggers. Reno unconsciously tightened his grip on the executive. The guardian roared once more and bore down on them, only to be barreled into the side by a streak of misty grey. It was Archer on Tiamat. The engineer whooped with battle vigor as the dragon hissed and tore at the Bandragore.

Energy hissed across the sky when Seiryu breathed a gust of hot elemental fire on his remaining opponent. It screeched in pain as it writhed in the sky, both heads blackened to nearly a crisp. The silver dragon finished with a deadly swipe of his claws across the twin throats, effectively cutting off their screeches of agony. The guardian fell from the sky, joining the fate of its four brothers. With his death, the battle was won.

Asclepius ceased his mad dash across the ground, gradually slowing down until he came to a clear grass plain that would enable the Highwind to land and stopped. Reeve and Reno slowly climbed off of the demi-gods back. The executive was limping slightly, the pain in his leg and abdomen from the guardian's claw having not faded in the slightest. He could still feel the sticky poison on his body and longed to wash it off before anything happened.

"I think that will do it, yo," the Turk commented as the form of his anima slowly shimmered until he regained his more human form.

The demi-god nodded in return. At the same moment, a soft tinkling sound was heard as the protective barrier around Wutai shattered and disappeared. He glanced around quickly, as though making sure nothing had damaged

"I have somewhere I need to be, Strawberry," the cute summon stated quickly, gazing at his animus with large eyes.

Reno raised an eyebrow as he glanced at his demi-god. "You haven't stopped bugging me since I started talking to you, but _now_ you want to leave?"

Asclepius giggled and leapt forward, throwing his arms around his animus and giving him a big hug. "Aw, 'berry's gonna miss me!"

The Turk's eyes widened as he struggled to pry the clingy anima from him. Reeve stood by, a smirk on his face as he was able to find the humor in it.

"C'mon Asclepius, let go."

The anima giggled again before releasing the Turk from his deathgrip-like hold. He inclined his head towards Reeve in acknowledgement before waving goodbye to Reno.

"Bye!" he called out before promptly disappearing.

"I never realized that Carbuncle was so… energetic," Reeve commented mildly, stealing a glance at his partner.

Reno opened his mouth to respond when the sound of angry cursings distracted him. Both men looked up to find that the Highwind had landed, and Cid was stalking their way. Not far behind, Archer, Seiryu, and Tiamat, now back in human form, were also approaching. However, this didn't stop Reeve from grabbing hold of his lover and dragging him near, threading their fingers together.

"Fucking crazy ass beasts nearly destroyed the Highwind," Cid muttered as he made his way to the two of them.

Archer laughed. "We are alive, aren't we? Isn't that all that is important?"

The pilot jabbed a finger in his former lover's face. "Easy for you to say. The Highwind isn't your ship!" He turned towards Seiryu and Tiamat, heaving a sigh of frustration as he impatiently lit a cigarette.

"What the hell were those motherfuckers?" questioned Cid angrily.

"Guardians," answered Tiamat with a slight sigh. "They are supposed to protect the gate that connects Elysium and Gaia."

Seiryu nodded in agreement. "They are not allowed on this plane. I do not know why they were here in the first place."

The pilot snorted. "Figures." His eyes traveled over his friends gathered as he suddenly recalled the amazing things that he had seen take place. He was reminded of Nanaki and Suzaku and Yuffie and Barinthus.

"So," he said, taking another drag on his cigarette. "I suppose these are your anima?" he asked the couple.

Reeve opened his mouth to respond, but two things happened at once. Seiryu tried to answer the pilot's question, and Cid's phone rang, loud and clear. The blond dug into his pocket and yanked out the PHS, quickly depressing the button. He recognized the name, coughing before answering it.

"Yeah… What's up… Shera finish those figures?" He paused as he waited for the caller to respond. His friends watched as suddenly his face paled and his cigarette fell from nerveless fingers. Reeve and Archer exchanged glances.

"Are you sure?" asked Cid, voice barely above a whisper.

The executive stepped forward, concern evident in his features. "Cid? Wh…?" But the pilot stopped him with just a look.

"Look, Rude, I'm in Wutai. I can be there in less than forty-five minutes. Whatever you do, don't let him leave." He snapped the phone shut and darted off across the plains, not offering a word to his startled friends.

Archer looked on in surprise. "Where are you going?" he called out to the pilot's retreating figure.

But there was no answer.

----

Reeve stood just inside the paper doorway to the Wutaiian home and looked at his lover, who was standing outside, gazing up at the stars. After the battle, they had returned to Wutai, as their transportation left without a word of explanation, to clean up, eat, and once again be celebrated as heroes. However, the whole time, all Reeve wanted was to get his lover alone so he could apologize properly and make things right.

After the festivities died down, they had been taken back to a lovely home, of which they were given full rights to with no one else to bother them. Reeve had taken a quick shower, some reveler had dumped her cup on him, and he didn't want to smell like alcohol for the rest of the evening. Reno had taken the time to stand outside and stare at the stars. The older man wasn't quite sure where Archer went, though he distinctly remembered a woman hanging on his friends arm. Perhaps the engineer wouldn't spend the night alone.

The executive smiled softly as he looked at his lover, the man he had been with for over five years and the only man he wanted to spend the rest of his time beside. He had only himself to blame for Reno's disappearance; although Tifa had originally orchestrated the plan, it was Reeve that caused him to leave.

Taking a deep breath, Reeve stepped out onto the small area that stood in the very center of the home, though it was open to the sky. His feet made small crunching sounds in the pebbles that lined the ground and he knew that Reno could tell he was coming. The Turk turned slightly, smiling when he caught sight of the older man.

"Feeling better?" questioned Reno, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Reeve waved a hand of dismissal. "The shower washed it all right off," he said as he moved to stand beside the red-haired man.

Reno nodded in understanding and returned his attentions to the sky. He had lived in the slums of Midgar before becoming a Turk and then in ShinRa assigned homes after that. He never had much opportunity to just look at the stars, except for when they had been on missions, even then the assignment took precedence. He didn't dream of flying to the stars like Highwind, but he found that reminding himself of exactly how small he was tended to give him a breath of peace. He heard Reeve shift beside him before he was quickly pulled into the older man's embrace, arms locked about him. He could feel the planes of Reeve's chest against his back, and it was a comforting feeling. The executive smelled good as freshly showered as he was.

"We seem to have a knack for being forced apart…" commented the dark-haired man as he idly trailed fingers over the clothed front of his younger lover's chest.

Reno sighed softly, relaxing into the embrace. He brought up one of his hands to clasp it with Reeve's. "But we always find each other again."

The executive nodded before kissing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. He paused listening to Reno breathe before continuing, "Somewhere along the way, I stopped making you number one. I convinced myself that because we were together so long and you knew I loved you, that it was alright for me to take away our time." He hesitated, leaning his head on Reno. "But as things progressed, I kept pushing you aside and that was wrong of me. I never wanted that to happen."

The Turk sighed again, squeezing the executive's hand gently. "I understood for awhile; maybe I was a bit selfish, but I just missed you, yo."

"It won't happen again," Reeve promised, leaning his head just a little to nibble on the juncture of the red-haired man's neck and collarbone. Reno shivered with arousal and pressed back against the executive's clothed but quickly rising groin.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," said Reno as he turned his own head to envelop his older lover in a searing kiss, their tongues quickly intermingling. Reeve's free hand was unable to stop itself from tracing fingers under the white shirt of his younger lover and caressing the hard muscled stomach. He slowly trailed his fingers downward, deftly unbuttoning the Turk's slacks and slipping beneath the fabric, brushing lightly over the already rousing flesh. It came as no surprise to him when he found no underwear present.

The teasing touch was something Reno had long learned to expect from Reeve, the man who was almost always unfailingly gentle. Being enveloped by the man he had been separated from, although the length time was not quite so long as other times before, overwhelmed his senses and he longed for more. He undulated his hips as Reeve's free hand came down to nestle on them. He felt his ass press against stiff, unyielding flesh, and he smirked against the older man's kisses.

Reno deepened their tongue-wrestling even as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bottle of lube he was never without. As a Turk, he had learned to be prepared. Besides, it was useful for other things… squeaky hinges for one. He lowered his hand and carefully pressed the bottle into the hand that was gripping his hip. Fingers curled about the vial before Reeve broke away from the kiss to stare into aquamarine eyes.

"I want to feel you inside me," the Turk explained with a devilish turn of the corner of his mouth. His eyes literally glowed in the night, a result of so much mako, but there was also the luminescence of lust and desire.

Reeve had to bite back a groan of lust at those words. He glanced surreptitiously to the empty courtyard in the middle of their borrowed home. "Here?"

The red-haired man smirked. "Why not? We are the only ones here, and Archer isn't exactly dumb. He'd keep his mouth shut and walk away if he did happen to see anything…" he responded, again pressing his ass to Reeve's clothed groin and moving sensually.

Amber eyes clouded over with desire. "Under the stars, eh? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were turning into a classic romantic." His mind couldn't help but recall the night of his engagement.

"Just don't tell anyone, yo," murmured Reno, diving in for another kiss. "It would ruin my rep as a badass, ya know?" he added against the executive's lips.

------ Censored for sensitive eyes... for the uncensored version, head to my account on mediaminer or my home site... so long as you are old enough------

The red-haired man collapsed against his older lover's chest as he panted softly.

For a moment, the two just sat there quietly until Reeve roused from his post-orgasmic bliss to clean them up a bit. He didn't bother to dress; Reno didn't either, the soft breath of wind feeling nice on their heated skin. The Turk was content to relax in his lover's embrace. It was still and quiet in the courtyard, a peaceful moment.

"Lilies…" murmured Reeve, barely breaking the silence.

Reno stirred in his arms. "Hm?"

The executive smiled and kissed the back of the Turk's neck. "My favorite flowers have always been lilies. I will have to tell Elena."

The red-haired man laughed softly. "You know," he began, shifting impatiently where he sat, and causing sparks of arousal to again affect his older lover. "We could always elope."

Reeve bit back a groan at the sensual onslaught. " 'Lena would kill us," he commented, running fingers down the Turk's bare chest and caressing a nipple.

The Turk shrugged. "We could still have her big wedding… afterwards. I know you'd rather have something small…"

"Sounds good to me," murmured Reeve in Reno's ear as he nipped lightly on the small shell.

The Turk could only moan slightly in agreement.

-----

Aww, aren't they cute?

Bandragore: singular

Bandragora: plural, the Bandragore as a group

Thanks to all my reviewers!


	28. Right Here Waiting

Thanks to all my readers! I'm sorry I couldn't respond to you!

Inspired by Staind's 'Right Here Waiting'

**Chapter 28: Right Here Waiting**

Forty minutes after Shera and Rude first ran into Vincent at the inn, the three were sitting around the table, devouring the last of the meal that the dark-skinned man had cooked, and idly chatting. It seemed none of them were really ready to go to sleep, and after tea was served – Shera had grown inclined to drinking it after preparing it so often for the Captain – conversation quickly took place.

It was comfortable in Shera's kitchen/dining room. Mildly warm because of the oven and smelling of freshly baked cookies – who knew the dark-skinned man could be so domestic – Vincent found he was surprisingly at ease as he sat at the table, conversing with the couple.

Although subdued, Rude was very intelligent. It was easy for the grey-eyed man to carry on a conversation with him. Shera had a quick wit and an even quicker tongue, but the couple was more than willing to listen to his story, albeit the abbreviated version of the events that had happened to him. He still wasn't ready to discuss everything, including the fault behind Gongaga. The two had seemed generally surprised when he told them of the attack on Cosmo Canyon. Most communication had been down or sporadic, so he supposed no one they knew had the chance to tell them quite yet.

Surprisingly enough, however, he found it easy to open up to these strangers and speak to them. He didn't feel at all awkward in their presence, as if he somehow already knew them. He kept experiencing vague feelings of recognition, but he couldn't recall any distinct memories.

And so it was that he found himself, forty-five minutes after his disappointment at the inn, eating cookies and feeling completely at home.

"This brother of yours… are you sure he wouldn't mind helping me on my way?" Vincent questioned, biting into another of the chocolate confections, resisting the urge to moan out loud. He wasn't much for such things, but there was something about the cookie that was immensely satisfying.

Shera and Rude exchanged glances, the brunette wrapping her fingers around her tea mug. She smiled at him, taking a sip before responding, "We are certain. He is always willing to help out a man in need…"

"Even a stranger?" Vincent quirked an eyebrow, still somewhat surprised by the kindness he had found in those that knew nothing of him. He had thought the world was long past that age of diligence, but then again, Granny and Gramps were two of the kindest people he had known.

The brunette nodded a strange look in her chocolate eyes. "Yes."

He regarded her thoughtfully before returning to his drink, his mind contemplating that look that he had seen in her eyes. He wasn't quite sure how to classify it: sorrow? regret? concern? He really wasn't sure. Vincent wondered what the story behind her friend was, and if he truly would be willing to take him to the next continent.

"Rude, honey? It's very warm in here, would you turn down the thermostat?" asked Shera after a moment.

The bald man glanced at his wife in surprise. "Really? I thought it was rather chilly." He turned to Vincent. "What about you?"

"I also thought it was getting warm," commented the grey-eyed man.

Shera laughed softly, shaking her head at her husband. "You are always cold, Rude. I would swear you have ice in your veins…"

He shrugged in response before shivering slightly. The brunette bit back a laugh and took a sip of her tea, but not before a distant, but a recognizable sound met her ears. She lifted her head slightly as if to listen, exchanging glances with Rude. She would know that sound anywhere, the Highwind was preparing to land just outside of Rocket Town (A/N: Or should it just be called 'Town'?... Beta's Note: Or 'The Place Formerly Known As Rocket Town').

Her husband nodded in understanding as they confirmed what she had heard and they continued to talk, pretending as if they hadn't heard it. "So, Vincent, once you figure out who you are, what are you planning to do?" questioned Shera pleasantly, eyeing the dark-haired man.

He turned contemplative, eyes slightly downcast. "I had not really thought about it. It's almost like I am two different people now. The person I was before, and the person I am now. Will all I've done, albeit it's not much, disappear when I regain my old memories?" he questioned. It was one of the thoughts that had been plaguing him every since he began his quest.

If he remembered, did that mean it would all come back to him? Would what occurred over the past six months be someone entirely different than who he was, or would it be like greeting an old friend? This time of uncertainty, guessing what was within him, would his present self hate what he was?

Perhaps he was getting too deep into it.

Rude hmm'ed at his question. "I don't suppose any of us really thought about that sort of thing. However, I should like to think that when your memories return it won't be any different than how you are living now, except that you will remember what came before; perhaps like if you woke up today forgetting what you did yesterday, that doesn't affect your future, even if you remember it later. You are still the same person," he replied thoughtfully.

Shera laughed softly. "Sometimes, I swear you are not the same man I married. That was a surprisingly deep analogy."

Rude shrugged as Vincent found it in him to smile lightly. "I have my moments. You'd have been more surprised if it had been Reno." A small smile tugged at his normally emotionless face.

The brunette shook her head at the thought of her husband's best friend. "I would have been shocked if Cid had said such a thing as well."

No one had a chance to respond, however, because at that moment, a loud knocking resounded at the front door. Vincent glanced at the clock, wondering who would be coming this late in the evening. Rude moved from the table to answer, but the sound of keys jingling in the lock, and the door opening on its own stopped him just beside the table. Three pairs of curious eyes flickered to the door, though two knew who the visitor was – only one man had a key to their gifted home.

Booted feet clomped noisily across the wooden floors before a man appeared in the doorway, tall with unruly, blond hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He stopped in the doorway, staring in almost shocked surprise at the raven-haired man sitting at Shera's table looking up at him with curiosity.

"Vince!" exclaimed the blond upon registering in his mind that without a doubt, the dark-haired man before him was Vincent Valentine. Bugenhagen had been right. He no longer wore red, and his claw Cid already knew was missing. And his eyes were a stormy grey rather than that peculiar crimson. However, Cid would be able to recognize the man that he loved anywhere, and he was sure this was no hoax.

Grey eyes widened as the dark-haired man stood to his feet. "Y… You!" he exclaimed in utter surprise. That voice! He recognized it, or so he thought. This was the man that haunted his dreams!

"I always knew you were alive," uttered the pilot before moving quickly into the room, towards the direction of the dark-haired man.

Unconsciously, Vincent took a step backwards. He had been searching for his past diligently, wondering about it for six months, but now faced with the reality, he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. He wasn't prepared to face it all so soon, not before understanding what would become of him when his memory returned. The possibilities were dizzying, and he abruptly felt confused, more so than he had when he awoke in Gongaga that first time.

This was what he wanted… wasn't it?

Cid froze in place, looking with confusion at the dark-haired man. Shera glanced between the two men before rising to her feet. She sought to lower some of the tension that was beginning to build.

"Do you know him?" she asked Vincent, surprised by his initial reaction to Cid's arrival. He had claimed he had no memory, but obviously somewhere, he remembered something to react in such a way to the pilot.

The grey-eyed man shook his head. "I'm sorry… I just… I don't know… I think I am tired…" he stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. If Erebus were there, he would have laughed at his predicament.

The pilot paused, hand lowering from where they had been outstretched to take his lover in his arms. His blue eyes filled with sadness. "Then… Bugenhagen was right? You have lost your memory?"

"Cid…" murmured Shera quietly, her face filling with sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Alexander," responded Vincent quietly. He didn't catch the slight wince to her face at his use of the formal name. "I think I shall retire now, if you don't mind." He moved to head towards the doorway.

Rude was the one who answered, "The guest room is the second on the right. Sleep well."

Vincent nodded in response before moving past the blond, grey meeting blue almost fatedly. Something passed between them, a spark, a memory, a flash… whatever it was, the dark-haired man couldn't be sure. But those scents, the one that haunted his sleep at night… cigarettes and tea, they washed over him in a flood and his eyes widened in surprise. Without saying another word, he made his way quickly to the stairs.

When the sound of his footsteps faded into the foreground, the shocked pilot finally moved, startling both Alexanders with his vehemence. "Dammit!" He struck the wall angrily with a fist he hadn't even realized he had clenched.

Shera moved quickly, to comfort the man she now considered her brother, placing one of her hands on his shoulder, finding him trembling. "What did you expect to happen?" she attempted to soothe.

The pilot shook his head, jaw clenched in anger as he looked up at her, eyes swimming with unshed tears. He couldn't find any words to say.

_It was a battle, one of fierce and life-threatening proportions. He could smell the blood on the air… hear the death throes of the fallen and sense that there was more to come. There were more enemies than he'd ever care to see, surrounding him, pushing him back, and trying to take his life… trying to stop his friends and he from saving the world. _

'_It is time…' a voice whispered in his head, low and mocking, whispering of its deceit and blood lust. Without question, he knew of what the voice spoke as if he long knew what to expect. Around him, his friends were fighting relentlessly but slowing being pushed back and losing strength against the barrage of the powerful one and his minions. _

_A burning sting came across his arm; a monster had snuck up from behind in his idle musings. He cursed to himself for his inattention before quickly turning and shooting the monster, directly through the eyes, a direct hit as usual. He turned back to the fray, crimson (crimson?) eyes widening at the sight. He was protected… Sephiroth was aiming for Highwind's back. _

'_Make your choice' came the same throaty whisper as before, resounding through his mind and sending tremors of power racing through his body, small beckons of calling. Would he heed or push them down? _

_Yet, somehow he knew before the voice even cajoled him, what he was going to choose. He had made his decision long before this day, long before this place and this battle. He ignored the pain his back, a Gargoyle lashing at him with its claws. The pain was non-substantial; the pain was a nuisance, but it would be nothing compared to what was coming next. He cast an Ice3 behind him, not caring if it actually struck as he turned, almost running to prevent a tragedy from occurring. _

_  
Time seemed to slow as sound faded to nothing. He could no longer hear the screams or smell the blood; he couldn't feel the dirt beneath his feet, though it felt like he was running through mud… as if his movement were hampered by something. _

'_You have no time'" the same voice mocked, as if daring him to give up. He internally snarled. _

"_If this would be my fate, he will not suffer the same!" he hissed aloud, putting on another burst of speed. He had little time but he would not waste it. _

_Vincent leapt, the only thing in his vision, the only thing he could see, sky blue eyes and short blond hair. Only one thought pervaded his mind… with his blood, he would come. His body jerked, fiery pain ripping through him, nothing piercing his senses but the agony… not sound or scent. _

_He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, as his legs dangled uselessly in the air. Crimson gaze settled on the man below him, peppered with his blood and returning his look with wide blue eyes filled with shock and despair. Fear and relief, he knew must have been reflected within his own eyes, for those feelings were cycling within his heart even as the pain of the tentacles piercing his body grew to excruciating proportions. _

_Something else was stirring. _

_Time seemed to stop for just a moment, locking the two of them in a moment, staring eye to eye as if to convey every last word, every lost chance. He coughed softly, breathe rattling in his throat as a dribble of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth to trail down his chin in a scarlet river… blood… so much, always so much… Four tentacles, he could feel them now, writhing in place almost, twisting and turning where they pierced his body in the abdomen, chest and shoulder. He didn't fear for his life, having long before resigned himself to death… but he had managed to save the man he loved, and that was more than enough. _

"_Cid…" He astounded himself by how weak he sounded, how completely done in. He opened his mouth to say more, but his voice cracked, more blood bubbling up, so thick he nearly choked on it. He could feel the scarlet liquid in his lungs, sloshing around and making him feel like he was trying to catch air through a thin straw. His body felt weak, but the pain that was so fresh was already beginning to be replaced by something more… something that was stirring…_

_The man in front of him reached out a hand as if to touch him, his name falling from his lips on a choked sigh. "Vince…" _

_But it was far too late. Vincent jerked back from the comforting hand at the same moment that the tentacles removed themselves violently from his body with the same if not more pain than they had going in. He barely registered two of them sliding by him to attack the blond as he slumped to the ground, his mind fading… dimming to grey and the sound of rasping laughter and crimson, lost eyes… _

_Footsteps, vague footsteps echoed across the edge of his conscious, and he lifted his head and blood-stained hand with the last of his strength, to ward him off. Not any closer… he was no longer Vincent Valentine. His body began to pulsate and shake in a familiar way, and he knew, he would not be in his human form for long. He locked eyes with the man he had saved, mouth managing to form two simple commands… the last words he would speak…_

"_No…" he choked, coughing as his eyes fluttered and barely managed to stay open. Scarlet met sky blue for a moment, and a lifetime passed, something he didn't expect to see… the name 'Valenwind' (1) passing through him within. _

"_Run…" Vincent whispered, his body jerking violently as his eyes lolled back into his head. He no longer knew what happened, consciousness quickly slipping beneath the surface of the dark waters. _

_Searing pain, even worse than the tentacles ripped across his back in vertical stripes, stretching from the top of his shoulder blade nearly to his hips. He fell forward unconsciously, hands coming out to catch himself. His mouth opened to emit an unearthly, guttural scream as his canines elongated to form fangs he never had. Chaos… all was destruction and death within him…_

_A pair of wings, black and webbed burst from his shoulders in a shower of blood, and he felt lighter somewhat as his body convulsed violently, skin darkening far more than his usual pale shade, and Vincent Valentine as he knew himself disappeared… locked away behind a shield and barrier made of pure hate and chaos…_

He burst from his dream with all the force of a hurricane, body jerking in the bed as he sat up quickly, chest heaving. His throat hurt, as if he still screamed, and his pulse raced. Pain shot up and down his back in waves, skittering, as if wings really were prepared to burst from his flesh. He threw back the covers of the bed, wincing as the agony continued to reverberate within him.

His mouth was dry, and he desperately needed some water. The images… kept flashing in his mind of his dream… or was it a memory? He wasn't sure. Vincent rose unsteadily to his feet, swaying momentarily as another flash of pain raced down his spine.

'It is time…' The words raced across his mind as he stumbled through the door, intent on heading for the kitchen to find some water, perhaps an aspirin or something for his pain. Maybe Shera and Rude had a potion to lend him, he having used all of his in his journey across the Nibel Mountains.

Could his dream/memory be what had happened to him to make him lose his memory? As he moved out his door, pain whispering across his head and clinging to the wall, he wished that Erebus were still present for him to talk to. Then again, the demi-god liked to be mysterious and would probably respond with a "you'll find out on your own."

His mind recalled how he had reacted earlier in the day. The first sign of finding out who he was, the first real true connection, and he had run like some scared child, all because of feelings he didn't understand. The man was only glad to see someone he obviously cared about, and instead, he had turned tail with a bullshit excuse of being tired.

He made his way down the hallway, wincing as each step caused stabs of pain in his back. He walked bowed over, one hand on the wall to steady himself. Flashes of memories and dreams had begun to circulate within his mind in an endlessly continuous barrage of images and emotion and sound.

He made it to the top of the stairs before the first real stab of agony struck him at the same moment he was distracted by the sound of footsteps behind him. Something flashed in his mind, he wasn't sure as quickly as it passed, in the very same second that he turned to look and fire raced through his spine. He was caught off guard, foot slipping on the wood.

He didn't have any time to think… even when he was tumbling down the steps. 'If this should be my fate, he will not suffer the same!' Those words echoed in him, even as his head violently struck the railing at the bottom and his world went black.

Soft, grey eyes fluttered open as a small twinge of pain echoed throughout his back. Vincent bit back a groan as he gazed around the room trying to discern exactly where he was. His memory had returned to him fully from his tumble down the stairs, the violent knock to the head enough to addle his brains into their proper position.

He blinked; finally catching sight of the blond man standing at the window, one hand perched on his hip as the other clutched a cigarette, easily recognized by the small tip of orange fire. Vincent knew without thinking who stood there, his heart telling him instantly.

He didn't say anything for a moment, merely drinking in the sight of his lover. He hadn't expected to live after the encounter with Sephiroth; in fact, he had resigned himself to the fate. He figured that the pilot would get over him, maybe go on to find another he could love someone much better. However, he had not expected to see the weary and nearly broken man that stood at the window. Cid had become thin, almost painfully so, and judging by the way he nearly inhaled his cigarette before reaching for another, his habits had gotten only worse with Vincent's actions.

The gunman shifted restlessly on the bed before he spoke, a small bout of insecurity hitting him as he did so. "You have gotten thin," he said simply, low voice carrying easily in the quiet, darkened room.

Cid's hand paused halfway to his pocket where he was reaching for another cancer stick. Vincent struggled to sit up, throwing aside the blankets and sheets that had been tucked around his frame when the pilot didn't make another movement. He appeared to be in a motion of indecision. The gunman pushed himself up from the bed, wobbling a little on unsteady feet as his head throbbed before moving to stand beside and a little behind the unmoving blond.

"Why?" came the whispered response not but a moment later. Cid paused and Vincent waited patiently for him to clarify. "Why didn't you tell me what you had to do?"

"Would you have let me go through with it?"

The pilot was quiet but he really didn't need to respond, Vincent automatically knew what his answer was. "What was I supposed to do?" questioned the blond after a slight pause. "All alone…"

Vincent shifted uncomfortably; slightly ashamed of himself for leaving the way he had, though he understood how necessary it was. The safety of the Planet, Sephiroth's redemption at his hands, that was how it had to have been, for his own peace of mind as well… but he had added another sin on to the ones he had been redeemed for… the sorrows of one blond pilot. It was one of the hardest decisions he had had to make but he knew there was no other way.

He knew of nothing else to say. "I am sorry."

Cid's shoulders shook for just a moment before the pilot abruptly turned around, nearly startling the former Turk with his quick movement. His hand shot out, wrapping around ebony tresses as he pulled his lover towards him and pressing his lips to that of the gunman's.

Their bodies meshed together in a distinctly familiar way and both men sighed at the contact, the feeling much like coming home. The pilot kissed him solidly, tongue snaking out to taste that familiar flavor that had been haunting him for half a year. Vincent obliged, parting his lips and wrapping his arms around the blond, pulling him as close as he was able.

It was only the necessity for air that separated the two. Cid panted slightly as he looked up into Vincent's eyes, though grey now, were still as beautiful to him as before. "I love you," he said simply, not wasting any more time in getting out the words that had been on the edge of his lips since before the battle with Sephiroth. He knew his eyes were probably watering pathetically, and his hold on the ex-Turk that he hadn't touched in so long was most likely a death grip.

Vincent closed his eyes, the words echoing within his head and sending a tremor through his body before it reverberated through his heart. Before, that proclamation might have sent him running in terror for fear of broken heart… or for fear of failing again but now, it made him feel warm inside… and desiring to return the words.

He tightened his hold on the pilot before leaning down; putting his lips very near to one ear, speaking softly. "I have always loved you."

The only response he received was an increase in the hold on him as Cid tangled his fingers thoroughly in his hair, and angling his head so they could kiss once more.

"You always found a way," murmured the pilot, nuzzling into the ex-Turk's neck as he gently nipped at the lightly tanned skin, "to keep me right there waiting."

Vincent ran his hands over the pilot's body in response, internally grimacing at the thinness he felt beneath the clothing. Cid had always been solid, strong, and he still was… but he still felt much slimmer than he should have. The gunman made a mental note to feed him… and get him to stop smoking.

Slim, gun-calloused fingers slipped beneath the edge of plain cotton T-shirt before grabbing onto the hem and pulling it quickly over a blond head. The clothing dropped to the floor. Cid pressed up against him, free hand unbuckling and unbuttoning his black pants. At every brush of those fingers over his clothed groin, Vincent could feel tremors of arousal shooting through his body. His skin grew heated, and he could think of nothing but being with his lover once again.

He wasted not another movement, grabbing the pilot by the shoulders and directing him to the bed. He gently pushed him down to the soft surface, pressing a kiss to slightly startled lips as his pants easily slid down his hips. He shook them off until he was only clothed in his shirt, and the blond in only his pants. Hmph. That would have to be remedied.

"You always had the words," murmured Vincent against a jaw bone as he worked on unbuttoning the pilot's blond jeans. Cid's hands were no less busy, having already made short work of his shirt and running over his back and chest, lightly pinching a nipple in their wanderings. "I needed fulfillment… but I found what I've needed in you."

The blond moaned slightly at the words, them doing almost as much for his libido as seeing the body of his lover after so long. "I love you, Vincent Valentine."

"And I love you, Cid Highwind," responded the dark-haired man, leaning down to press his lips once more to the blond's.

Within moments both had shed themselves of their clothes until there was nothing between them and they could touch skin to skin. For minutes, they just reacquainted each other with their bodies, touching, feeling, caressing. Tongues ran up and down hard flesh, curling around erect nipples even as hands rubbed and teased into full stimulation. The heady scent of arousal pervaded the room.

---- As Always Censored For Younger Minds… you Know where to go if you want---

They came nearly in tandem, Cid moaning only seconds after the grey-eyed man, cumming inside him with a force borne of being alone for far too long. Vincent clutched at him; the pilot's name a whisper across his lips.

He collapsed against Cid's chest, falling forward as the blond fell backwards. They gasped tiredly as the pilot's arms automatically wrapped his lover, and they shifted positions until they were both comfortable, lined up nearly limb to limb with subtle height differences. Vincent relaxed against him, glad to be there, with his memories returned.

"Hey, Vince," spoke up Cid after a moment. "The next time you decide to go on a suicide mission, how about letting a guy know?" He paused before tracing a hand over the twin scars on Vincent's back, as if reminding himself of their presence or to prove that they didn't matter to him. "I might decide to go with you."

The dark-haired man shifted so that he could look his lover in the eye. There was some uncertainty within those blue orbs, as if the pilot expected him to disappear again. Vincent couldn't blame him. The last six months had to have been hell for the blond, while he only had to suffer through memory loss.

A look of serious intent crossed his features. "Don't worry, chief," he murmured, trailing a few fingers through the light dusting of blond hair on Cid's chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

Relief spread quickly across the pilot's face as he grinned. "I'm glad to hear you say it."

Vincent bit back the smile threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth as he mildly shook his head before laying it back down on the pilot's chest. He felt warm and surrounded by that scent that no matter what had been lost, he could never forget. It was right… and good…

It was like he had come home.

And with that realization, a measure of serenity washed through his body. He had granted Sephiroth peace, destroyed the man who had ruined his body, and long ago said his goodbyes to the woman he had once loved. Other than the new threat of what could only have been the demons that once infested his body, there was nothing left for him to do but move on… and be free to love.

His atonement was complete.

The blond shifted, reaching over to switch off the lamp with one hand as he tugged a blanket over their nude forms with the other before returning his arms to their original position. Darkness washed over the room, the only light visible was the moon streaming in from the window.

They didn't speak anymore; for the moment, nothing else needing to be said. As the lovers drifted off into sleep, content within each other's arms, one thought was prevalent and shared.

"I am home…"

In the kitchen, the Alexanders were still awake, discussing the current events, neither of them really ready to go to sleep. Vincent's retreat into his room and Cid's downcast response were first and foremost on their minds. Shera was standing in the kitchen sink, quietly washing the dishes from their meal earlier as Rude wiped down the counter. They two always seemed to work in tandem, splitting the chores rather than deigning them for one over the other.

The sound of a body tumbling down the stairs was the only thing that disturbed their peaceful movements. Shera was the first to rush to the doorway, Rude close on her heels. They both moved to stand in the hall but quickly drew back into the shadows when their eyes fell on the events.

The dark-haired man had fallen down the stairs, they weren't sure how that had happened, but that didn't matter because there was the pilot, gently picking up his unconscious form and carrying him back to the room. They knew that Cid would take care of him and exchanging glances, disappeared back into the solitude of their kitchen.

"I hope Vincent is alright," Shera mused idly, wiping cookie crumbs off her serving plate. The remaining extra baked items had been put in its respective airplane-shaped cookie jar. They wouldn't last long. Rude's baking rarely did, between them and the occasional visits of the local children that Shera sometimes enlisted or watched over.

Rude looked up from wiping down the counter, brushing some trash into the garbage can. "I've seen him recover from worse."

The brunette reached forward and turned off the water, idly wiping her hands on a dish towel as she pursed her lips in thought. "True," she commented softly. "If their story of what happened in the crater is any indication." She threw the dish towel over the rack before grabbing a cup from the cupboard and pouring herself some more tea. "I'm not sure I believed the Captain when he said he knew Vincent was alive."

Rude sighed as he put away his wash rag and also grabbed himself a cup. He couldn't find it in himself to be tired, and it was again getting chilly in the kitchen… perhaps he would need to look at the central air system. He followed his wife to the table before responding.

"I suppose none of us can really understand anything about that particular situation, faith or not," he commented, idly tapping a finger on the table. Warmth covered his hand, and he looked up to see Shera placing her own over his. She smiled at him softly.

"Perhaps… but they've found each other again, haven't they?" she mused aloud. "I wonder if he will regain his full and complete memory… will Vincent ever know what Cid was to him and how the Captain felt?"

"Death cannot stop true love," intoned the dark-skinned man softly, his eyes trailing to the room above. "It can only delay it for a while." (2)

Shera's lips parted slightly as she looked at her husband in awe, surprised at the words that came from his mouth. "Aye," she responded slowly. "That is most definitely true."

---

(1) I believe it was MakoRedEyes on who first coined this phrase, but now everyone seems to use it. Plus, I really like it so I'm borrowing it; however, I did not originally create it.

(2) Those who read Misunderstood will recognize this quote.


	29. The Conclave

Thanks to all my reviewers! I'm so sorry I can't respond to you all but my computer barely allows me to update! But I'm glad to get all of them! If you have any questions, feel free to e-mail me and I'll be happy to respond.

History lesson! And lots of plot! Pay close attention because it can get confusing.

**Chapter 29: The Conclave**

The mysterious plane known as Elysium was home to the demi-gods. It was a beautiful place, untouched by war or disease, death and destruction. It was peaceful and quiet, the perfect place to spend eternity. The gates between Elysium and Gaia had long been guarded by the Bandragora, sons of Raidne and Orthrus; however, the guardians only responded to their mother's haunting voice, much to their father's consternation.

Elysium had existed since the day Gaia was formed and Kami-sama dictated that the planet needed guardians, more so than just the Lifestream that could at times be somewhat aggressive and human. It was then that he created Gilgamesh, Isis, Seiryu, Tiamat, and Heimdal. Over time these demi-gods grew together and apart, giving birth to children even as Kami-sama created a few others to keep the balance at work. Soon, Elysium was filled with the children of Kami.

However, with their immortal lives, the guardians grew bored only acting as defenders, and so the great god assigned them each a task and gave to them special members of the mortal world that would serve as their counterpart, their link to the peoples of Gaia. Each demi-god and goddess was given a job and a task with a strict set of rules that each was to obey.

Some, such as the Bandragora and Sylph, were never meant for the mortal plane. Their only task was to watch the goings on from afar, not once setting foot Gaia. There were only as many demi-gods allowed on the mortal plane as there were powerful and wise mortals to accommodate them. These were the rules set by Kami… in order to maintain the balance.

And for a time, the many servants of Kami grew to love their tasks and were content with themselves and the world. They took upon themselves mates and grew to love and cherish, like many of the mortals. More and more children were borne to the immortal plane of Elysium, and yet, it never grew full.

It wasn't until Balaam, first son of Gilgamesh, borne of Chaos, and Isis, borne of Wisdom, found that he had grown tired of his lot and sought to find a way out of it. He envied the mortals for their power; he envied them for their freedom, and he wanted such a thing for himself. He revolted against the laws of Kami, three others of the demi-gods and goddesses joining his side; Baal, second son of Seiryu, borne of Element, and Tiamat, borne of Order; Daunte, borne of Hell; and Azamat, borne of Helios and Hekate.

The war between them raged on for many years, as father fought against brother, mother against son, lover against lover. Balaam was nearly defeated once, until he found a power recently undiscovered on Gaia, a power from the heavens that had no place on such a planet. This magic was from a place that none of them were familiar with, a location that was many years and miles away from their own planet.

Balaam had no qualms about taking the power for his own gain and stole it from the crashed alien creature. She was too weak to fight back. With the magic in hand, the revolt started anew, the fight raging for many more years. Mortal lives were lost, and many demi-gods were injured beyond their own healing abilities. They were only demi-gods after all. Not even death was something they could overcome… especially not when killed by one of their own.

Finally, with the tender sacrifice of Kronos, the four revolting demi-gods and their subsequent armies were destroyed and disbanded. The traitors were brought up for punishment. Kami was furious with them but realizing the results of the war, knew he could not just destroy his creations lest he risk the balance. And with their traitorous actions, despite the choices made by the others, his trust in his demi-gods and goddesses was greatly diminished.

In retaliation, the great Kami sealed the four greatest traitors in small marbles made of hardened materia, a favor from the Lifestream. They were cast to the farthest reaches of Gaia, far from the hands of any mortal and made to lie there until their punishment was thought sufficient.

As for the others, the few that had joined the side of the traitors –and those that had fought against – other punishments were dealt. And since Kami knew he could not trust anyone, he placed more restrictions on those that had fought for him, taking those with the most power and sealing it within orbs, also gifted by the Lifestream. These orbs, which came to be known as the Summon materia, were distributed among the animus of each demi-god.

Over time, the voices of the anima grew dim and the mortals were no longer able to hear them. They forgot of the battle, and they forgot of the old ways. The new names for the powerful ones were remembered instead, and the limited power of the orbs that was more readily available was cherished. The children of Kami that had been faithful retreated to their homes of Elysium and guarded their charges from afar, watching over the mortals whose lives had brought much entertainment.

And there was peace between the demi-gods, so much so that the Old Ways nearly became forgotten for them as well. It didn't seem important so much that they continue to call to deaf ears… and even their pleadings faded like dust in the wind.

And so it was for thousand of years, until one mad scientist stumbled upon four small black and cloudy materia on the Lost Grounds, while searching for the famed Knights of the Round Summon materia. Instead, he had found the even more famous and powerful Four Demons of the Apocalypse, which were only thought to have existed in myth and legend. Luckily for the demi-gods, but unluckily for the humans, the scientist knew the perfect host for his experiment. Hojo knew of the perfect creature.

There was nothing the faithful, as they had taken to calling themselves, could do about such events. It was against the rules to interfere so directly without having been summoned. Unless the mortals could learn of the Old Ways, the faithful could only hope that Hojo would fail in his endeavors and eventually throw away the materia to be lost once again.

Yet, they hoped for naught. Thirty years after his discovery, the rise of another of Hojo's experiments, awakened the power that was lying dormant in the former Turk. Balaam and his counterparts began to scheme of freedom and deception, picking up where they had left off, only this time finding more allies so that they would succeed. Balaam was determined not to fail; he was determined to find his measure of freedom.

He knew that the Lifestream had the ability to separate mind from body, he had been coherent through enough of Hojo's mutterings. So he contrived a plan. He knew his host had already planned to be the new sacrifice, so that decision was already made, and planned to use the opportunity to find his freedom. He pretended to hold back his power until the final battle, forcing himself free and breaking the ex-Turk's control. He destroyed Sephiroth, pretended to weaken, and eventually dove into the Lifestream.

As he had expected, Vincent's mind separated from his body and the demi-gods were able to break free also. They made their way out of the Lifestream, as demi-gods not belonging there to begin with, before they found a place a hide – a place to regain their bodies that was most familiar, on the other side of the world. It was there that they began to form their plans, their revenge against both the humans and those they considered traitors.

However, their attempts had not gone unnoticed. Even as they schemed for their freedom, the faithful planned to put them back in their prison. They attempted to thwart their plans but were unsuccessful. It seemed they hadn't expected that Balaam's true intention was to dive into the Lifestream, only knowing that he was trying to break free. They assumed he would attempt to physically separate from his host, not knowing that it was nearly impossible. It was not as if a physical human/demi-deity relationship had ever been done before.

With his newly gained independence, Balaam hid himself and his counterparts so that they could regain their lost powers. That plan was thwarted when they realized that their host had not died, and in order to regain their abilities and full bodies more quickly, they would have to find and destroy him. This task proved more difficult than they expected, taking nearly six months.

In the meantime, the faithful knew war was to begin soon, and that in order to defeat Balaam and his new allies, the Old Ways would have to be reborn. As it were, only a vague few left on the planet could still hear the voices of the anima, Bugenhagen and Aeris being two such examples – the Ancient because of her close link with the Lifestream and Bugenhagen for his knowledge and wisdom.

Even the Planet joined their fight, offering up Vincent in the beginning as a way to prevent the demi-gods from regaining their powers quickly, reviving the powerful Sephiroth, now free from Jenova's control, and even restoring a fallen SOLDIER to be a warrior in the place of the Planet's own defender. With Aeris expecting, she could not fight.

Like in the war of old, the twelve began to take form… a dozen pairings of anima and animus. It was a balance, a collection of elements, carefully planned to take down all aspects of Balaam's power. There had always been the twelve, that had been all Gaia needed. Yet, with new threats arising, and more demi-gods joining the side of the traitor, twelve was no longer enough.

Across Gaia, the anima began to call out to their animus with great vigor and determination, urging them to listen to their instincts, to call the true names, and remember the days of old. The receptive ones, those that still believed in miracles and knew of gods and goddesses were the first to hear, the first to accept the truth of the voices. And it was those that convinced the others.

But with time drawing near, and with Balaam the only left of the original four to yet regain his form, time was quickly running out. Plans had to be made. And so a War Conclave was called to decide what to do about Gaia and the traitors. It was the first of its kind since the battle centuries preceding, excluding the general one that had taken place six months prior to determine the fate of Iblion.

---

It was the day of the Conclave and as a result, all the demi-gods had been summoned to Elysium to take part in a discussion that could stretch on for an indefinite amount of time, depending on the speaker. It was also an opportunity for them to see the state of the immortal world, such as how many had betrayed for the sake of Balaam and his plans.

Most of the demi-deities stood in small groups here and there, conversing in low tones and making vague predictions and considerations. There were many familiar faces.

Two dark-cloaked figures stood off to one side, away from the general area of the rest of the group. One was easily recognized by his black and crimson wings as the former summon, Diablos, now only known by his true name, Baal.

He had not died in the crater as many mortals had assumed and had been attempting since to make contact with his surrogate animus, his own having been killed earlier in the year and a suitable replacement not having been found.

The other figure, Erebus, was also known to the mortals by another name, Hades.

"If all goes well, I think that my animus will regain his memory," commented Erebus idly.

Baal shook his head, stretching mildly as he released his wings, grateful for the freedom that movement afforded him. "I still cannot get through to him, Erebus," he commented, eyeing his lifelong friend.

The dark-cloaked demi-god frowned and rubbed at his head, as if it pained him. "Perhaps it is because of his memory loss? It took me six months to break through to him, especially through all the confusion left behind by the four. Maybe after the Conclave, you will have better luck."

The winged demi-god sighed as he flexed, dark purple gaze traveling over those gathered in the amphitheater at Tartarus. It was the only location large enough to hold a mass of them comfortably. He stood in his human form, long dark hair with amethyst eyes and black robes with plum etchings.

"More turned than I originally suspected," Baal commented, shaking his head. "I don't understand what is so attractive about Balaam's plans."

"Most likely it is the non-comprehension of the ideal of freedom," answered a voice that the two demi-gods easily recognized. They turned to greet the newcomer, a man with glossy black eyes and equally dark coal eyes.

"Orthrus." Erebus nodded by way of greeting. "Somehow I knew you would not be one of those to turn from us."

The well-built male dressed in flowing robes of grey raised a brow. "And join that idiot? Risk spending the rest of eternity with Gaia in control of a fool? Don't jest."

Baal snorted, glancing once more at the others gathered around, most standing in small clusters and a few groups staring at the three of them. "Many of the others believed that we four, Gilgamesh included, would betray them."

Orthrus crossed his arms over his chest and eyed his fellow demi-gods before turning back to the two males that had been his friends for much of his eternal life. "They've been among the mortals for far too long," the grey-cloaked demi-god remarked. He frowned. "They have put too much stock in the earthly ideals of good and evil, as if such a thing truly existed here in Elysium."

Erebus sighed. "They believed I would follow the path of my father."

"Join the club," came another response from behind the gathered three males. They turned to greet the speaker, instantly recognizing the fourth member of their somewhat 'outcast' group. He strode towards them quickly, crimson cloak flapping in the breeze. "As if my intelligence for making my own decisions was affected by my blood." Gilgamesh snorted with a prideful shake of his head. "I cannot help that my son would turn out to be such a fool."

Baal flexed his wings unconsciously as his brow furrowed. "I think perhaps we've all been around the mortals for too long. We've adopted some of their more undesirable traits, including petty dislikes." He nodded his head in explanation towards the small clusters of demi-gods located several feet away.

There were a few recognizable faces. Standing nearby the front row of benches, closest to the stage, was the ice demi-goddess Ishvara, scantily clad in blue that covered only her most intimate parts. Her long snow-white and icy-blue hair was bound at the top of her head, flowing down her back and nearly reaching to her knees. Her gold body jewelry glittered as she laughed with her closest friends Raijin, the thunder god, who was wearing thick robes of brown with a flowing beard, and Ma'at, goddess of truth and harmony, who was dressed in a stark white toga emblazoned with green ivy leaves that were also wound through her hair.

Among those that chose to glare at the four friends was Chimaera, mother of Raidne. She was one of the older demi-goddesses, created not long after the first four, and her pride and arrogance were something she took great honor in. With her long tawny hair and crystalline eyes, she was one of the more beautiful demi-goddesses resident in Elysium. Eris and Shamash, respective demi-goddess and god of strife and justice were also those that followed along after her.

Orthrus frowned, waving a hand of dismissal. "Ignore them. Raidne was much like them, and you see which path she has taken."

"I heard that the Bandragora attacked Wutai; was it under her orders?" questioned Gilgamesh, turning towards his longtime friend.

Orthus, the coal-eyed male, flinched momentarily. "You know they only listen to their mother… it seems my family has always been strangely divided."

Baal shook his head, moving to the grey-cloaked demi-god's side and grasping his hand warmly, giving it a companionable squeeze. "At least you still have your other child…"

Erebus smiled at that. "Speaking of whom…" he trailed off, words interrupted by a loud cry.

"Daddy!" came a happy somewhat feminine voice before a body barreled into that of Orthrus, nearly knocking the demi-god to the ground. The coal-eyed male oof'ed before releasing Baal's hand and wrapping his arms around the bundle of green and scarlet.

His friends could not conceal their amusement, all of them instantly recognizing their assailant for who she was.

"Asclepius," Orthrus admonished. "This is entirely not dignified." But there was a smile on his face that was not there prior.

The green-haired lady pouted as she drew back. "Who cares about dignity, yo? I haven't seen you in ages…" She stared at her father plaintively.

Erebus laughed, drawing her attention. "You've been spending too much time with your animus, Asclepius, you are beginning to sound just like him."

The sole female turned towards him and winked. "Ichigo is a lot of fun!" she commented happily. Then it seemed a sudden realization hit her as her face fell slightly. "But we had to fight my brothers…"

Gilgamesh sighed and shook his head. "The past always repeats itself."

"Never mind that," said Erebus, changing the subject when he noticed the sad look in Asclepius' eyes. She loved her brothers and mother dearly, although they had never been particularly fond of her. Ever since Raidne and Orthrus had decided to end their farce of a marriage, they had become a divided family.

"No need to dwell on such things. More importantly, have you managed to speak with your animus, Orthrus?" continued the dark-cloaked demi-god.

The coal-eyed male shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have tried but it is as if he cannot hear me at all. I'm not quite sure why either…"

Baal sighed as he looked to the front of Tartarus. Everyone was beginning to gather there as the silver dragon demi-god stood on the small dais. He was attempting to gain the attention of those present and the soft source-less choir-like music that had been echoing in the back of his hearing had disappeared. It was time to begin the Conclave.

The winged demi-god turned to Gilgamesh, a question brewing on his face as he frowned in confusion. "I thought it was your year to preside…" he commented, indicating the dais with a nod of his head.

The other male nodded in answer before shifting his position and moving towards the amphitheater, the others falling in step behind him. "Given the circumstances, Isis thought it wise that I allow Seiryu instead." His eyes darkened as he paused for a moment. "He is, after all, the favored of us."

"Father does have a certain… commanding presence, I suppose," allowed Baal with a shrug of his shoulders. The group began to make their way towards the gathering of demi-deities.

Gilgamesh smiled slightly at that. "Aye… and Isis won't be coming either. I told her to stay in Karnak." He lowered his voice. "I have a feeling this Conclave is going to be anything but peaceful."

The others nodded in agreement, and continued silently on their way.

Asclepius looked back from where she was walking beside her father to see Erebus chewing his lip, as if in deep thought. The dark-cloaked male liked his Hades form on the mortal plane, but in Elysium, he preferred his human form and like his animus, he was one of the most beautiful men she had seen.

Erebus was a rather young demi-god with short dark black hair that he wore spiked similar to that she had seen on humans, though it didn't defy gravity nearly as much as theirs did, and his golden eyes sparkled like the gold that the mortals so coveted. Smirking in sudden thought, Asclepius stopped and waited until Erebus was at her side so that she could speak to him.

She placed her hands behind her back and granted him one of her brilliant smiles. "I missed you, too, you know," she said, nudging him with a shoulder as they walked behind the others.

He flushed lightly, eyes darting to the dark-haired male walking not that far in front of them. "I would occasionally visit Elysium to see you, but it seems you were always on Gaia." He turned a sly eye in her direction. "Am I going to have to fight Reno for your affections?"

She waved a hand of dismissal, a bright smile on her face. "He still thinks I'm a boy!" she exclaimed as she giggled. "I haven't figured out a good time to tell him."

A slight smiled tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at her. "Your attitude never fails to make me smile," he commented.

That only caused her to grin more as she grabbed his hand and squeezed before letting him go. "Then my deed is done for the day, yo," she teased.

A sudden hushing from in front of them caused both demi-deities to look up, seeing Orthrus looking down at them with a stern glare, which wasn't very scary considering the teasing half-smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Erebus raised a brow, and the coal-eyed male gestured towards the dais.

Everyone had quieted and was looking to Seiryu for him to begin. Orthrus returned his attention to the front as Erebus and Asclepius exchanged glances before also giving their undivided attention to the silver dragon.

"This is the last time we will gather until Balaam is stopped," Seiryu intoned, the opening words to his speech. "How long it will be before any of us see one another again, I cannot say, and I only hope in this long battle that no ill befalls us." His emerald eyes roamed over his fellow demi-deities. There were fewer than he had expected. Many had joined Balaam… and many had chosen to take no part in the war brewing in Gaia.

"We have even lost Arthur and his Knights…" the dragon murmured softly, face shadowed with emotion.

A man stepped forward, forest green curled hair and fresh soil eyes distinguishing him as Dagda, the demi-god of Life and new growth. He was not one of those who chose to take form in Gaia, preferring to watch over his responsibilities from afar. "With all due respect, Seiryu, but I do not think I am alone when I say, we have not the time for idle pleasantries."

The silver dragon tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Our time is limited, peace in Gaia only tenuous; how many animus have been contacted? If we are to see victory, we cannot do it without them…"

Chimaera snorted derisively. "You must be joking," she responded snidely. "Us, rely on the mortals? It is they who have forgotten us, they who have to rely on our power."

Emerald eyes narrowed down at the tawny demi-goddess. "You who have spent no time on the mortal plane, save for a fraction of your power, have no claim to criticize. Even now you take a neutral stance Chimaera, but you cross into dangerous grounds."

She huffed and opened her mouth to speak when another voice beat her to it, masculine baritone easily louder than the quiet, speculative murmurings of those gathered. A large presence cleaved his way through the crowd, red cloak billowing behind him.

"We rely on the mortals because such is how Kami ordained it," spoke Gilgamesh, instantly commanding everyone's attention with his presence. "Balaam is one of us, angry at us, and seeking revenge for what had been done to him before. This is a fight between immortals; yet, it is the mortals that are dying, losing lives already shortened by their abject mortality. It is only fair that they be given a hand in this."

Startled murmuring spread among those present until an angry voice ran out, pinning his words on the eldest of the demi-gods. "Your words hold little precedence here as it is your son who has become the bane of our existence."

The ground parted so that Gilgamesh could see the one who had spoken. Shamash stood there, glaring imperiously over his long, straight nose with raspberry eyes narrowed.

"And the Bandragora attacked Wutai, ordered to do so by Raidne," Tiamat called out from her husband's side. "Yet, none of you point fingers at Chimaera and blame her for her daughter's misdeeds. One could just as easily say that her opinion holds no consequence as well."

The tawny demi-goddess flushed angrily, hands tightening into fists at her side. "They are as much Orthrus' children as they are Raidne's. The fault lies in not her alone." She turned to Gilgamesh. "And where is your other? Where is your dear wife, Isis? Could she not show her face?" she hissed angrily.

The scarlet-cloaked male resisted the urge to grab for his sword for the disrespect. He settled for glaring at her intently as he spoke, tone turned icy. "My wife has a heart, unlike you, and she mourns the loss of her animus. At least she remembers what it is to feel." He darted his gaze over those present. "It appears it is not only the mortals who have forgotten the Old Ways."

Erebus raised his head angrily, eyes smoldering over with his fury as he regarded Chimaera distastefully. "You would do well to speak more kindly of your betters," he hissed coldly. "You will never be half the demi-goddess of my grandmother. Take to your own kin!"

Tension crackled through the air, nearly tangible as angry glances and heated stares were exchanged. It seemed as if another battle were going to take place, but this time, in peaceful Elysium rather than on Gaia, the home of the mortals.

A clear voice rang throughout those gathered, coming from the back and speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. Heads turned in that direction quickly as a collection of startled gasps resounded. It was Isis, wife to Gilgamesh and Balaam's mother who had spoken, standing there at the back of the crowed appearing regal and collected.

"These are not the issues here," she said, eyes shining as they roamed over her fellow demi-deities. "Whether or not we should blame the man who birthed the monster or the monster himself is not what we should concern ourselves with – but rather the task at hand." Her gaze roamed over all those gathered. "Blame can be placed later, but if you absolutely must, then lay it on me for teaching my child to think for himself rather than blindly follow any path laid before him."

Shamash gasped at her words. "You would speak of the words of Kami with such disregard?"

Isis cocked her head to the side, not at all fazed by his question. "Then our Lord has granted free will to the mortals but demands only the strictest obedience from us, the favored?" she questioned, her eyes growing stormy. Meanwhile, Gilgamesh was quickly making his way to her side, instantly surprised to find that Isis made an appearance.

Shamash seethed, clenching his fists with anger. "We were given greater gifts, that of power and responsibility." He narrowed his gaze at the demi-goddess. "Freedom is the small price to pay."

"And yet," she responded, her face tranquil. "It is what I desire most."

Chimaera grew angry, eyes widening at her declaration. "You would join Balaam then?" she hissed. "You would betray us, fight against your brethren…" Her eyes flickered over to Gilgamesh who had finally made his way to Isis' side. "And he who owns your heart?"

Isis paled slightly but grasped her husband's hand and maintained her resolve, tightening her jaw as she spoke. "I would never do such a thing. It is due to my desire that things change that I fight against Balaam, only because I know that his way is wrong."

"Enough!" Seiryu's voice rang out through Tartarus, effectively silencing all arguments and murmurings. Attention immediately was drawn his way. His gaze hardened as he admonished his fellow demi-deities with a look.

"You are acting as the mortals with all this petty arguing. We cannot spend eternity discussing what does not matter," warned Seiryu frostily.

"Would it be so bad," commented Isis softly, her gaze almost beseeching. "Their passion, their vigor, it's something we lost long ago."

The silver dragon's stare softened at her declaration. "You know how much I believe in them, but now is not the time." He looked to the others, clearing his throat noisily. "How many have yet to contact their animus?"

"I have not," Orthrus replied, speaking for the first time. He felt a hand grasp his and looked over, smiling at the winged demi-god warmly before returning his attention to Seiryu. "My voice falls on deaf ears, and I've yet to understand why."

Ishvara crossed her arms over her chest, as if to protect herself. "We have been conversing, but he still calls me Shiva." She seemed saddened.

Seiryu nodded in acceptance before scanning the crowds of familiar faces, blanching when he realized that some who should have been were not present. "Both Byakko and Hyperion have betrayed us?" He shook his head sadly. "The only consolation is that without their animus, their strength is greatly reduced."

"And what are we going to do about Iblion?" Baal questioned, speaking up for the first time since the beginning of the Conclave. "His animus cannot fight without his aid. Will we be reduced in our power again because of our own choices?"

The silver dragon sighed. "Would you have us break the rules to restore him to his place? He knows of his transgressions. The best he can do is speak to his animus."

Baal snorted. "I only hope that in the end, it wouldn't have been his power to tip the scale."

"And what of you?" questioned Shamash, turning towards the winged demi-god. "Your animus is dead, and yet, somehow you have attached yourself to another… and one who is already claimed at that."

Baal's gaze hardened. "That is a special case. You know as well as I that Erebus' animus was the host. Balaam will do everything in his power to make sure that he dies, and we cannot have that."

Shamash laughed derisively. "So it is not alright for the mortals to die in our immortal battle, but it is fine to use one in such a way?"

"You misunderstand," spoke up Orthrus. "Vincent knows of his position and agrees that his death would not be a good thing."

The raspberry-eyed male waved a hand of dismissal. "I suppose you haven't told him of the choice then… or rather lack thereof."

Erebus frowned, cocking his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Seiryu sighed on the dais. "The topic of which this Conclave had originally been summoned… Balaam's fate at the end of this battle."

A hush settled over the crowd as all attention returned to the silver dragon. "We all know the words of Kami and what occurred in the war all those years ago. There are really only two options afforded to us. Either we lose as a group that which makes us powerful … or the host be subjected again to the sealing."

Erebus growled angrily. "He just now received his freedom from his tormentor and you want him to go through it all again, for all eternity? You know that type of sealing will make him immortal!" he protested loudly.

"You would have us give up our power then? For the sake of one mortal man?" Shamash questioned, as if there were no other truth.

"We don't need it," insisted the dark-cloaked male. "Perhaps Isis has the truth in that things need to change… that free will is the true gift."

Gilgamesh shook his head. "Without us guiding them, who is to say what will become of them. What if another like Jenova descended on Gaia? How will it be protected? No, we cannot just give up what has been gifted. However, the idea of subjecting him to that again makes me queasy. Is there no other way?"

Seiryu didn't respond for a moment, but the look in his eyes was enough answer for them all. "Such are the laws."

Erebus narrowed his eyes in anger. "None of you know, I can't expect you to understand, but to do this against his will… would make us no better than that demon scientist himself!"

"Then we will ask him!" Shamash snapped.

"He will, of course, agree," Baal murmured. "That is his way. We are not truly giving him a choice."

Seiryu sighed. "Then it is decided?" It was a question, not a statement. Everyone seemed to be in agreement, no one wanting to give up their responsibility and power for the sake of one mortal.

"I have not agreed to this!" snapped Erebus, golden eyes flashing angrily. "That is the law, you all agree? Well, I say that the law is faulty!"

A series of startled gasps echoed throughout the room as everyone turned to look at the angry demi-god. Never had such blasphemy been heard in the courts of Elysium.

"And such is the son of Balaam," hissed Chimaera. She turned towards Seiryu, proclaiming loudly. "You heard him! He sides with his father, perhaps a spy all along!"

"He is not a spy!" Asclepius cried out, running to her friend's side. Her garnet eyes flashed angrily, a look of determination on her face. "If you knew anything of the mortal world, Grandmother, you would understand him and why he thinks this way. I have to say that I cannot agree with the laws either!"

Chimaera's mouth dropped open, wide in surprise. "The both of you… would give up your power?" she questioned as if she couldn't comprehend anything more.

The room went silent as the question hung heavy on the air.

Asclepius and Erebus exchanged glances and a small nod before returning their gazes to Chimaera. "Yes." They answered simply and in unison, as if they needed no further thought.

The silence stretched on as those present absorbed the information.

Suddenly, laughter rang out across Tartarus, deep and full-bodied, full of mirth. Eyes darted around in confusion, finally settling on the crimson-cloaked male. Gilgamesh was laughing as his eyes twinkled.

"The vigors of youth," he explained. "And the fact that we Old Ones are appalled by their beliefs."

Those gathered exchanged glances at his apparent loss of sanity. It appeared as if no one was going to say anything further until both Ishvara and Erebus gasped in unison, suddenly blinking out of Elysium with a small twinkle.

"What has happened?" Seiryu demanded almost immediately, turning to his mate.

"The Sahuagin," Baal answered enigmatically before he, too, disappeared, leaving the demi-deities behind to wonder.

---

Please Review


	30. Lupine Trails

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Chapter 30: Lupine Trails**

She was supposed to be looking through these stacks of old papers and books. Recently, the number of attacks from monsters in the caves had been increasing. The barriers that Bugenhagen had set up were growing weaker and needed to be strengthened and restored.

Thus, the purpose behind delving into the old sage's library for some information.

However, the ninja found it all very boring.

She sighed dramatically and snuck a glance over at her friend, Nanaki, who seemed very interested in what they were doing.

Yuffie resisted the urge to sigh a little louder and attempted to return her attention to the documents in front of her, trying to ignore the distracting swish of Nanaki's tail across the floor, miraculously not setting anything alit. Unfortunately, the ninja's mind instantly wandered. She tapped a bored finger on the table in front of her as her mind recalled the day before when they had laughed together… and kissed again.

She wasn't entirely sure how to define their relationship now that things had changed. She never expected to fall for her best friend, but she had in fact.

What wasn't there to like about him?

Nanaki was brave and strong, loyal to a fault with a good heart. Being ruggedly handsome was a plus as well, adding to his allure.

Yuffie was so used to seeing him in his human-like form that she tended to forget that he had another. She also had to remind herself that he was nearly three times her age. Just looking at him, however, quickly made her forget. Yuffie only knew that she wanted to follow her heart, though she worried about what to do with her own arranged engagement and subsequent marriage.

She did not want to marry the pompous, spoiled lord that her father had chosen for her, nor would she have chosen him to co-rule Wutai. He was arrogant, looking down upon any that he considered lesser, which was everyone save the highest of the nobility like Godo and herself. He was vile and rude to the common people and often yelled and belittled his servants, working them without stop on most days, too. Yet, he was such an excellent ass-kisser that he had Godo and a number of the elders and family heads believing him a saint incarnate. Lastly, he thought himself above the law, not bound by it like everyone else, and he did whatever he wanted without thought to the consequences.

The last could be said about Yuffie to an extent, for she was basically disregarding her father's orders that she should stay at home, being the dutiful daughter and future ruler. However, the little ninja understood that the rules still applied to her; she just ignored the completely unfair ones, most of which dealt with personal property.

Gah! It didn't help that he was a lousy fighter and had less than interesting hobbies. He was likely to bore her with his talk of political matters and the social circles in Wutai. Give her a battle any day; she would be happy.

Perhaps that was why she liked Nanaki so much. They had a lot in common. He could easily make her smile, and she knew she could depend on him. It was nice to know that she didn't have to watch her back around him, and he was a great kisser.

She felt her cheeks warm at just the thought and fought to look away from him so he couldn't see her blushing. Not that he was paying the ninja any attention as engrossed as he was in his research.

Yuffie idly wondered if he would ever change back, and what she would do if he did. He had spent the better part of six months as a demi-human, and it didn't appear that was likely to change anytime soon. Neither of them or Bugenhagen had ever found a reason behind the transformation, not that she wasn't happy with it. She liked his new form and hoped he kept it. If he ever changed back… there was no way they could be together the way she wanted to be. And then, he might want one of his own clan.

That sudden thought send a train wreck through her mind. For all intents and purposes, Nanaki thought every last member of his clan was gone.

What if they weren't? Would he choose them over her?

Her eyes widened with a realization.

Did he only like her because there were none others to chose from?

"This is it!" exclaimed the red-haired man suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her sudden awareness as she turned her attention to him.

"What is?" she asked, pretending all along that she had been staring through the papers. She made careful show to mark her 'place' in her book and close the tome before giving him her full and complete attention.

He chuckled lightly before grabbing a paper and moving to her side, spreading it out in front of them. "I knew you were daydreaming, so you don't have to pretend," he teased as he tried to soothe out the edges of the folded parchment.

She flushed but nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey! I was hard at work researching, you know!" she argued indignantly, though there was more a playful look in her eyes.

He shook his head. "Right; if you say so," he murmured before gesturing towards the paper. "Look what I found."

She leaned over the wrinkled and browned parchment, scrunching her forehead in confusion. "It's a stained piece of paper," the little ninja commented flatly, not seeing any significance in the blurred writing and drawings.

Nanaki waved a hand of dismissal at her before pulling on the paper and pointing at it. "Look closer. It's a map… of the Gi Nattak Cave."

Intrigued, she peered again, barely able to distinguish the thin lines and swirls that indicated that it was indeed a map. She could make out the entrance and recognized a few paths that she had taken with Nanaki and Cloud the only time they had entered the cave before.

"I don't remember this one," Yuffie commented, pointing to one that jutted out from the bottom right of the drawing.

He grinned. "That is because it is hidden. We wouldn't have found it, even if we had looked." Nanaki raised an eyebrow at her, eyes glinting mischievously. "I bet it is where the monsters are coming from. Want to check it out?"

Her eyes lit up. "You ask me that after boring me to death in here?" she questioned incredulously before leaping to her feet and grabbing her shuriken. "Let's go!"

He chuckled lightly, carefully folding up the document and sticking it in the small pack that he always kept slung over a shoulder. It was also where he stashed his extra materia, potions, ethers and occasional snack food. It was harder work to feed his new body than it was his old one.

Yuffie's enthusiasm was contagious, and he found himself looking forward to fighting again, even if it was easy beasts. Having to take over the leadership of Cosmo Canyon left him feeling edgy, stressed, and it was only Yuffie's constant presence that kept him grounded. Her unfailing energy and knack for understanding problems and finding quick, easy solutions helped him when he thought he would founder.

The demi-human knew she would make someone a great mate one day. He only wished that that someone could have been him, and so was his predicament. He had kissed the ninja, on more than one occasion, his heart telling him she was a woman that needed to be kissed. He wanted to pursue a relationship; he wanted to placate the feelings that had been rising in him. However, he also knew of chance and circumstance. Always, there was reality, and it invaded his thoughts and turned them grim.

He was human, truly, but only for a time. He never knew when he would transform back, if ever he did. Nor did he know anything of his clan, and from what he had discerned of Yuffie, there was someone back home waiting for her to 'come to her senses' and get married.

What kind of future was there for the two of them?

No matter what he desired, circumstance was always rearing its ugly head.

"Nanaki?" Yuffie's quizzical voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to look at her startled. She had a confused look to her eyes as she cocked her head at him. "You were staring off into space…"

He flushed. "Sorry… got lost in thought. Ready to go?" he questioned, grabbing his claw off the table where he had stashed it earlier and equipping the weapon. The Dragon's Claw had been found in Bugenhagen's vault of artifacts from his tribe. He wondered how and why it had gotten there at the time but now just accepted their presence. It was one of the strongest weapons he had ever acquired.

Yuffie nodded in response, twirling her shuriken in the air before walking towards the door of the makeshift home they had taken up residence in. Luckily for them, Bugenhagen had kept most of his important papers and records in a room separate from his house. Only a fraction of his knowledge had burned in the attack rather than all of it.

Nanaki had settled for dragging most of the material to the room that was his beneath the inn, and Yuffie and he had settled there. For now, the arrangements were satisfactory. After all, most of the residents of Cosmo Canyon were sleeping in Tents or hiding away in the tunnels. It would be a long time before rebuilding would be enough to house everyone that had lost their homes.

The two quickly made their way up the many sets of stairs until they came to the room that housed the gigantic metal door to the Gi Nattak Cave. The cave was supposedly separate from the escape tunnels below, but with all the monster attacks and the recent discovery, Nanaki would have placed gil on the fact that they were all connected. However, it was much more convenient to enter through the metal door rather than get lost in the escape tunnels.

He turned the winch for the door, while Yuffie kept watch, ready to strike down any monster that might be waiting to emerge, not that it was likely. However, no such creature came to view, and she was able to relax. Without further delay, the two friends checked their equipment and materia before delving into the greenish-black depths of the Gi Nattak Cave.

Nanaki wrinkled his nose at the scent of mold and rot. The last time he had been there was to speak to his father six months prior. There weren't many occasions for Bugenhagen to open the doors to the cave, and they preferred to keep it that way. He was surprised, however, to find that no monsters approached him and the well-armed ninja. Perhaps they had all learned their lesson, or they had gone somewhere else. Either way, he was disappointed.

"This is boring," muttered Yuffie after a moment as they peered into the gloom and made their way quickly through the sections that was easily recognized. Both of them were agile and light-footed, barely making a sound as they passed over the rocky terrain. "Where are the monsters?" she questioned, idly tossing a few throwing stars at some random boulders.

Nanaki shrugged casually. "Perhaps they have gone into hiding, or they may just be deeper in. I cannot say."

She sighed dramatically and kicked her foot at the ground. "Where do you think that tunnel leads?" she questioned, changing the subject.

The demi-human frowned as he considered the question. "Grandfather never spoke of it, and we didn't come across it before, which leads me to think that there is either no significance to it… or great significance. Whichever it is, your guess is as good as mine."

Grey eyes sparkled with sudden interest. "It could lead to some materia. Like some great storehouse or something with powerful summons and such!" Yuffie exclaimed excitedly.

The red-haired male chuckled at her. "Is materia all you think about?" he questioned teasingly.

"No," she responded stubbornly, turning to walk backwards so she could see his face. "I think about other things as well…" Yuffie's eyes glinted almost mischievously as she licked her lips before grinning widely. She turned on her heels and skipped a head a few steps, inspecting a rather boring looking rock.

Nanaki was nearly floored by the teasing look he had caught in her eyes. Almost as if she was flirting with him. He was instantly grateful for the semi-darkness of the cave as he knew he was blushing fiercely. Trust the ninja to be so bold! He shook his head to clear away sudden thoughts that had /no/ place in his current situation and hurried to catch up to Yuffie.

They had already bypassed most of the familiar paths and were approaching the area where they had been forced to hit the switches the first time around. He remembered that when they had come the first time there was a button that Cloud had pushed, making a weird click but otherwise not doing anything. According to the map, if he twisted and pulled that one button – rather than push as their spiky-haired leader had done – it should open another tunnel.

However, the sound of clawed feet skittering across the ground distracted his internal musings as the fetid odor of unwashed monster flooded his senses. His body was instantly on alert as he scanned the area for Yuffie, finding that the ninja had suddenly disappeared. He panicked for a moment as his eyes darted around worriedly, wondering if she had gotten hurt, dragged away, or something even more terrifying. He couldn't find the brown-eyed woman anywhere.

There was a low throaty growl behind him, and he turned, coming face to face with a Gi Specter, its large soulless empty eyes staring at him intently. He bit back a cry of shock and went to attack when a body barreled into the creature from the side, rolling around with the monster and sending it crashing to the ground. He barely registered the flash of silver before the Specter's attacker broke free and jumped to her feet, hand raised in the air to catch the flying shuriken.

Yuffie easily caught the weapon, not wasting a moment before bringing it down and destroying the Gi Specter with a quick swipe of her weapon before it even had a chance to recover from the tackle. The monster didn't make a sound as it slowly dissolved to the floor, its body – that was already little more than a husk – returning to its completely dead state.

The ninja huffed, as if offended, before wiping the shuriken off with a rag and reattaching it where it belonged. It was then that she looked up to find Nanaki gaping at her in surprise.

She smiled and started laughing. "You were standing there all lost in thought and then I heard the monster's attack, so I took care of it. Don't worry." Her eyes flashed teasingly.

The demi-human shook his head. "You were that bored?" he questioned before moving towards the small alcove that housed the switch from the map.

Yuffie raised a brow. "You were that distracted?" she countered easily, ignoring his question.

He pretended as if he hadn't heard her. Nanaki fought down the flush that was once again threatening to break out over his features and moved past her into the small alcove. It was very dark in there; even with his enhanced vision, he could barely make out his hands in front of his face. He groped around muttering curses as Yuffie laughed at him until his hands finally found the button. He couldn't help but wonder how the hell Cloud had found it the first time around.

Taking a deep breath, the demi-human grabbed the lever-like button, twisting and pulling on it in one smooth motion. It moved easily beneath his touch, making a strange grinding noise. He released the lever and backed out of the alcove, a small rumbling alerting him that something had indeed opened.

Yuffie looked around, mouth slightly agape as she tried to understand where the movement was coming from. A sudden shifting in the ground beneath her caused her yelp in surprise before leaping backwards, Nanaki immediately rushing to her side. As the ground trembled, the two friends looked in surprise as a stone slab in the floor moved, revealing a set of notched stone stairs that led downwards into a darkened tunnel.

The horrible grinding and rumbling ceased as Yuffie and Nanaki peered into the dark of the tunnel, curiosity filling them to the brim. It was completely void of light, impossible to see more than a few feet into the gloom. The barely discernable sound of water dripping echoed in the tunnel.

The two friends exchanged glances. "After you," suggested the demi-human with a grand gesture and half-bow.

"Hmph," muttered Yuffie, not the least bit afraid. In fact, she was insanely curious, wondering if perhaps there really was some great materia at the end of the tunnel. However, she wasn't going to say that to Nanaki, he might not let her go first.

"I've seen worse," the little ninja exclaimed before stepping onto the stairs and making her way down, Nanaki, quickly following.

She was surprised to find that the stone steps were quite sturdy, not all cracked and crumbling. The tunnel wasn't exactly large, and Yuffie could stand up straight but the much taller demi-human was forced to stoop slightly. It was wide enough that they could walk next to each other and still easily touch the walls, but it also stank of mold and mildew. The floor beneath them was smooth, as if it had been swept, and it appeared the passage had been carved with magic or something for the walls were unmarred as well.

The ninja peered into the impenetrable dark, frowning as she rifled in her pockets for something to use as a light. She finally found a flashlight in one of her myriad pouches, quickly clicking on the small device. A beam of light issued forth, giving them barely enough illumination to make sure they weren't going to fall into a chasm or anything similar. Nanaki's fiery tail helped as well.

"How did the monsters get from this tunnel, into the escape passages?" Yuffie questioned aloud, her voice echoing around them as the beam of light bounced along the walls.

Nanaki shrugged, his keen sight attempting to discern something of purpose. "If I remember correctly, the tunnel connects to others."

The ninja came to a stop, hovering in indecision. For the first time, they had come across a split path. One led to the right, another – looking very much the same – led to the left.

"Which way, I wonder?" she questioned aloud, flashlight bobbing between the two very similar choices.

Nanaki mused quietly as he looked between the two. He surreptitiously sniffed the air, noting that both had the same musty, mold-ridden odor. However, he had once heard that when in a maze, follow the right wall. At the time, he figured it was as sound advice as he had.

"We'll go to the right," he said finally, taking a step in that direction.

Yuffie ran the beam once more over the floor as she nodded in agreement. She moved to follow him when suddenly her eyes caught something on the ground. She paused, frowning intently, her face furrowed in confusion.

"Wait," she called out before moving towards the left tunnel and stooping in the middle of the passageway. "What are these?"

Nanaki turned, eyes scanning the ground where she knelt. "Those look like… paw prints," he mused, instantly moving to her side. He raced a hand over the marks in the dirt floor, surprised by how familiar they looked. Most of the impression was in the toes of the foot, obviously made by a creature that placed its weight on part of the limb rather than the entire thing. There were small markings, as if claws were also part of the limb, and they were spaced evenly, in a way reminiscent of a dog or wolf.

"I know these!" he exclaimed in surprise, automatically casting about for more. "They are my own prints… or, should I say, those of my clan!" His eyes immediately caught more, leading in the direction of the left tunnel. He knew, his plan had automatically changed, the right passage no longer holding his interest.

"Your clan?" Yuffie queried in surprise. "But I thought… you said…" she was near stammering in her surprise, believing that they were dead, but not really wanting to say such a thing aloud and straight to him.

Nanaki stood up, looking eagerly down the hallway. "I had thought so… but what if they escaped? What if they used these tunnels to get somewhere safe and hidden? I might not be the last!"

The ninja floundered. "We shouldn't just stand here then," she suggested. "Why don't we follow them and see?"

The excitement on Nanaki's face was easily discerned, his mounting happiness nearly palpable. He nodded his head in agreement, standing up even as he traced the paw prints with his eyes, following them deeper into the left tunnel.

As Yuffie followed her best friend down the darkened passageway, he having procured the flashlight from her, she couldn't help but worry. It was like her fears were being realized. She wondered if Nanaki found his clan would he cease to desire her company. She didn't want to lose her best friend; Nanaki was one of the few people who understood her, who actually liked being around her. She didn't want to lose that.

Nanaki, meanwhile, was finding himself growing more and more excited. He had spent most of his life growing up around humans with the thought that his father was a coward and that he was the last of his kind. It was only until recently that he discovered that his father was truly the most brave of them all, protecting Cosmo Canyon and his son with his dying breath. Nanaki only wished that he hadn't wasted his time believing such wrong things.

Yet, now it seemed he was also wrong in other ways. If there was a chance that some had escaped, that some of his clan still lived, then he wasn't as alone as he originally thought. Nanaki believed he had a family in Cloud and the others. They were his friends, but there was always a part of him that wished he wasn't the last of his clan… possibly his kind.

He carefully followed the paw prints, an easy feat considering the tunnel was only going in one direction. It was also the sight of the prints that encouraged him. Like he was one step closer his people.

It was an endearing thought.

After a few minutes of walking, they came across yet another juncture. Nanaki swung the flashlight over the floor, finding that the prints led off to the right. Yuffie had been unusually silent, which concerned him. He turned to ask her what was wrong, the words poised on his lips, when suddenly a large weight struck him from behind, driving him to the ground.

The flashlight fell down, the glass of it shattering as it skittered across the dirt and plunging them into darkness. Only the light provided by his tail was available. Something spiny and foul had landed on his back, and he could hear fangs snapping at his head as he twisted and turned beneath the creature. Yuffie's startled shout echoed along the tunnel, but Nanaki couldn't make out her words due to his predicament.

The demi-human snarled angrily as he bucked up against the creature that was attacking him, shoving an elbow backwards and striking something. The monster snorted but didn't move. Without any other options and feeling pinned, Nanaki attempted to cast. He threw a Bolt 3 behind him, hoping it would work.

Bright light flashed in the air around them, illuminating the small passageway. The demi-human briefly caught a glimpse of Yuffie trying to fit off two Gi Specters as the lightning bolt struck the creature on his back. It reeled and growled but moved just enough to allow him to lash out with an arm and crawl out from beneath it.

He peered into the dark, eyes trying to adjust from the quick changes in light. He barely heard the quick rush of air from an attack before he ducked and rolled in the general direction of his attacker, slashing with his claw as he moved to his feet. He felt the strong metal bite into something as it howled in pain, blood splashing over his hands.

There was a bright flare of light as Yuffie cast a Fire. It struck the Gi Specter she was fighting and promptly set it alit. The burning creature was enough to light the entire tunnel, thereby making the battle easier. Nanaki quickly centered his attention on his opponent. He wasn't sure how to describe the creature, having never seen it before.

It vaguely resembled a cross between the griffin-like creature and the Mad Bomber's that roamed the plains outside of Cosmo Canyon. He had managed to cut a slice into one of the monster's beefy arms, but that was all. The beaked head cawed at him angrily before a clawed tentacle sprang out at him. He nimbly dodged, calling a Fire2 spell to one hand as he slashed viciously with his claw. The creature easily went down with his two-handed assault.

As he delivered the final blow, Yuffie's surprised yell made him half turn. Before he could complete the move however, something grabbed onto the necklace around his neck, nearly choking him in the process. His hands automatically went to his throat, to relieve the strangling. However, the ancient chain couldn't handle the stress of being pulled in more than one direction. It snapped at the clasp, falling from his neck to land in the dirt at Nanaki's feet.

All of the sudden, the demi-human could feel his entire body begin to tingle. A golden glow began to fill the room before it seemed as if his limbs were being pulled in all directions, and his bones began to crack and bend, as if newly forming. It was immensely painful, and he bit down his lip as his back bowed over. He collapsed to the ground. His body began to writhe as he gasped, and for a moment, he blacked out completely.

Yuffie gaped in surprise as the demi-human suddenly fell to the ground, his body shaking and enveloping in a golden light. An attack from the monster that she had tried to warn Nanaki from earlier distracted her. She quickly finished it off with a swipe her shuriken, swiping its head from its shoulders.

The Gi Specter was still burning in the tunnel behind her, although the blaze was slowly going out. She used the last of the light from that and Nanaki's fading glow to hurry to his side. She reached out a hand to help him and nearly gasped in surprise. He had reverted back to his lupine form.

Slowly golden eyes opened to look at her as her hand settled on his head, ruffling through his fur. "What happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes narrowed as he struggled to sit up, only to have them widen when he realized it was not as simple as putting out a hand. He only had paws now. He looked to Yuffie in surprise as he shakily rose to four limbs. His tail swished behind him, and he could smell and hear more accurately than before. In fact, now he could catch the lingering scent that accompanied the familiar paw prints.

Nanaki locked eyes with Yuffie. "I'm back in my natural form, aren't I?" He questioned, stating the obvious but wanting to hear it from her anyways, to be sure he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating.

She nodded, idly running a hand over his fur, as if assuring herself that it was real. It was kind of like getting slapped in the face with reality, seeing him changed back like that. Yuffie was unable to keep her gaze on his, not wanting him to see the emotions in her eyes so she looked off to the side, idly catching the small glint of metal from the light fire.

Nanaki sighed. "I thought so. I wish I could understand what brought it on." He moved towards the tunnel, ignoring the rapidly dissolving corpses around him, barely registering that one had already collapsed to dust. He didn't really understand the laws of death for monsters.

"It lasted for six months this past time," he idly mused aloud, paying no attention to Yuffie as she wandered over to the glinting object, picking it up off the ground with nimble fingers.

It was Nanaki's chain, the one he had found in the Temple of the Ancients with the flamel on it. She fingered the gold metal, finding that the clasp had broken. Stealing a glance over at her friend, who was staring mournfully between the two paths, she slipped the necklace into her pocket, knowing he could not wear it broken as it was.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He attempted a shrug, used to such actions after being in his human form for so long. It came off as more of a roll of his muscles, however.

"It was something I should have been more prepared for," he commented quietly. "Let's just continue as we were."

She nodded in response and moved to his side, laying her hand on his shoulder and using it as a guide. They ignored the left passage, following the paw prints to the right. They eventually came upon some sort of entrance to the outside had almost passed beyond the lip when both of them smacked into an invisible wall in the same moment. Shaking his head to clear the slight dizziness, Nanaki attempted a frown as Yuffie rubbed her nose as her brow furrowed.

"What the hell?" she questioned, holding out a testing hand. It struck something that she could not see with her hands. It wasn't painful or shocking, just… there.

Nanaki moved forward and held out a paw, it landing against something solid and just stayed there, seemingly floating in thin air.

"It is a barrier," he stated, speaking what was painfully obvious. He looked past the invisible obstruction. "And it was evidently put up to protect the escape route of my clan."

Yuffie furrowed her brow in confusion as she felt along the wall, looking perhaps for something like a handle or a way to go around it. "Who put it there?" she questioned, finding nothing.

"I can't honestly say." The lion wolf sighed. He sat on his haunches and stared mournfully down the dark tunnel that led to the path his clan had taken.

The ninja exhaled slowly, giving up in her search as she leaned back on the heels of her feet. "What a depressing day," she commented idly.

Nanaki nodded his head in agreement before turning to look up at her, golden eyes unable to hide the pain. "Shall we return to Cosmo Canyon then?"

"What about the monsters in the tunnels?"

"We know they are coming from the left path at least, but I am not up for further exploration today," Nanaki answered, rising to his feet and turning to head back the way they came. "We can come back tomorrow and place a barrier or something to block them in."

The ninja shrugged as she fell into step behind him, no longer feeling as if she wanted to investigate either. As they walked, they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Both of their minds were presently occupied with their own concerns.

Yuffie pondered as they traversed the tunnels, her hands occasionally sliding into the pocket where she still held the broken chain. Nanaki hadn't asked about it, and she figured she would until later to return it to him. She planned on fixing it first, as a kind of cheer-up gift. He seemed somewhat depressed; whether it was because of his recent transformation or being unable to trace his clan, she could not be sure.

Either way, they were reasons she could not really empathize with. She had her own worries. Such as… what to do with her feelings? They were all twisting and turning within her now, not sure what they were supposed to do. Those romantic emotions that had been building for him were now flopping around her stomach, trying to decide if they were proper to have or not.

The insecurities that she had been chewing her lip over earlier were now pounding at her head even louder. As a demi-human, it was easy for her to forget that he wasn't entirely human. It was easy for her heart to overlook that as well. However, now, with reality slapping her in the face, she knew she couldn't hide the truth from herself any longer. It was a disheartening thought to be sure.

Yuffie stole a glance at the lion wolf who padded along at her side. She wondered if he was facing the same concerns as she. He certainly seemed to be in deep thought, and those golden eyes, the ones that had started giving her butterflies in her stomach, looked haunted… probably just like the way hers looked at the same moment.

She forced herself to tear her eyes away from him and concentrate on the passage ahead, just in case more monsters appeared.

It seemed the both of them had a lot of thinking to do… along with the realization of truth.

---

Finally! Angst for our favorite couple!


	31. Not Quite Forgotten

**Author's Note: **

**I must apologize for the confusion. In Chapter 29 of The Conclave, it read that Baal, second son of Seiryu was one of the first to join Balaam's cause in the first war. It should have read, Mabuz, second son of Seiryu. Baal is the first son of Seiryu. Sorry about that. **

**Chapter 31: Not Quite Forgotten**

Tseng idly watched the other dark-haired man and child as they walked in front of him. Elena was talking to Denzel, but the man, Seraph was mostly silent. He kept his eyes on the path in front of him, as if constantly in thought, and without knowing it, he had become the center of the Wutaiian's attention.

The Turk commander resisted the urge to frown in thought as he contemplated the stranger. He had the feeling that the man was familiar to him somehow. Not that Tseng was at all affected by that low voice or his leather encased…

He shook his head violently, clearing out the untoward images. Last he needed was to compare two entirely different men, no matter how much like a dead man Seraph looked.

Tseng remembered Sephiroth; the man that had tried to destroy the world was not what came to mind, however. He recalled the General before he went insane and burned down Nibelheim… before he was somehow returned to life only to destroy ShinRa tower and call Meteor… and before the silver-haired man stabbed him through the gut with the Masamune.

He wouldn't say that they were friends… more like colleagues. Sephiroth was General of the ShinRa army, whilst Tseng was sub-commander and later commander of the Turks. As a result, the two of them knew each other over board meetings and the like. Even then, Sephiroth was a somewhat quiet, cold man. Tseng suspected it had more to do with not knowing any other way to be rather than an actual desire to be an asshole. The Turk himself tended to be introspective and even chilly to those that rubbed him the wrong way.

Still, even then Tseng found that he wanted to get to know the powerful General more than he had been allowed. There was no denying that Sephiroth was a beautiful man. His features were elegant, almost aristocratic with that unbelievably long silver hair and shining jade eyes. He also had the look of someone who didn't understand or even know his own handsomeness. That was one of the more attractive aspects of his personality.

However, the only one the General even seemed to allow near him was his second, SOLDEIR 1st Class Zack Loire. The Wutaiian had always wondered if there was anything between the two or if they were just friends.

None of the mattered now, however. Sephiroth was dead, finally and completely. Cloud… or actually as he had heard, the ex-Turk Vincent, had taken him down six months earlier. Tseng only hoped that he stayed deceased this time. Gaia could not handle another of his crazed and bloodthirsty returns.

Which was another discussion point that the Wutaiian had turned over and over in his head many times. The Sephiroth he had known before, the one prior to the Nibelheim incident, didn't seem the type to lose his mind and suddenly start killing people. Tseng remembered him being someone concerned over others, not really liking war or death, no matter how skilled he was at it. It seemed more like he had been trained and ingrained with the proper skills and had been told he had to use them, that he had been given no other choice.

He never sensed any plans for world domination from the silver-haired man, nor did he think that Sephiroth had wanted to destroy the world with Meteor. Something had happened to him along the way because the murderous intention behind jade eyes that stared at him as he was impaled… it was something that didn't show the truth of a man.

"I thought we had talked about you disappearing into your head," came Elena's teasing voice from his side, distracting him from his thoughts.

He blinked owlishly before looking around, realizing he had been nearly walking in a daze, paying naught attention to his surroundings he had been so deep in thought. Seraph and Denzel were walking in front of them, the child chatting amicably with the taller man and holding his hand tightly, while Seraph listened patiently. It was quite endearing, so much so that Tseng found it hard to believe they weren't father and son. The older male was surprisingly patient.

Tseng found himself recalling the dark-haired man's story. Seraph Noire was looking to find his friend, Caryn Weathers. The both of them once worked in ShinRa, probably as part of the army.

He wondered what relationship the two men had. Were they best friends, lovers perhaps? And Mr. Noire had claimed to know something of Cloud Strife. If Tseng had been in the army, he was certain he would have remembered a man like Seraph Noire. Perhaps Cloud could recognize him as well.

The dark-haired man was unusually good with a sword, better than he had seen in a long time. Unlike Cloud's hack and slash method, as much pummeling as it took, Seraph was more refined. Each move carefully calculated, not a single attack wasted. He was near poetry in motion.

Tseng wondered why Mr. Noire was no longer in ShinRa army. Had he deserted or been driven off? And why? What the importance of Caryn Weathers? Tseng resisted the urge to snort. His thoughts were becoming circuitous and getting him nowhere.

Snap! Tseng blinked and looked into shining, almost piercing brown eyes. Elena was standing before him, having just snapped her fingers to get his attention as she grinned devilishly. Her eyebrow cocked as she gave him a questioning look.

"They must be good thoughts to keep distracting you," she commented. "Mind sharing?"

The Wutaiian shook his head in response. "A lot has happened today. I was merely running through the events in my mind," he answered her, peeking around to see where they were. Their mismatched group was nearing both the Strifes' home and Aeris' church. It wouldn't be long before they could leave Denzel with them and take Seraph to the ShinRa building.

She didn't seem impressed by his answer. "Is that so?" Her eyes slid slyly to the dark-haired man walking in front of them, not at all embarrassed as her gaze traveled over a well-muscled behind. "They wouldn't have anything to do with Mr. Angel?"

Tseng had to fight against the blush that was threatening to spread across his cheekbones, knowing with his somewhat fair skin it would be painfully obvious. She had nearly centered dead on his thoughts.

"Of course not. I was merely hypothesizing what had happened earlier today concerning you."

He pinned her down with his steely gaze, hoping to fluster her enough into changing the subject and wanting her to explain how she managed to summon Ramuh without having the materia. Strange things had been happening lately, including Elena suddenly having this strange affinity for anything electrical and being able to withstand lightning bolts with ease.

Elena nodded in sudden understanding. "You want to know what happened earlier today."

Tseng's eyes flickered to their guests, realizing that neither male were paying them a bit of attention. "You called for Raijin… that is the name of one of the most ancient Wutaiian gods."

The blonde took a deep breath. "It is Ramuh's true name," she answered, looking her boss in the eye. "He told me."

The Wutaiian raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "He _told _you?"

Elena sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "I hear him speaking to me, in my mind. I know I'm not going crazy, especially since he showed up in the flesh during that battle. He says that I am his animus and he, my anima. I wasn't quite sure of the connotations of those terms though."

Tseng was having trouble wrapping his mind around that concept. The summon was speaking to his subordinate, in her mind. "When did you start hearing Raijin?"

The blonde pursed her lips and appeared to think about it. "I think that I have always had some inkling of him in the back of my thoughts, but it was only recently that the words became clear." She paused for a moment as if discussing anything internally before locking eyes with him again. "You haven't heard anything?"

The Wutaiian shook his head, still baffled by her explanation. "Not a word, and I don't intend to either. I don't want anything inside my head." He shivered slightly at the thought of anymore 'voices' in his mind.

Elena frowned. "I can't really be sure whether or not you have a choice," she replied enigmatically.

"A choice in what?" came Seraph's voice, interrupting their small conversation. Both Turks looked up to see Denzel and the dark-haired man stopped in their tracks, eyeing them critically. They had come to a juncture in the road and were waiting for guidance from the two Turks.

Elena didn't say anything, preferring to let her boss field the inquisitive question. "Which is the quickest way to Strife's," answered Tseng, easily changing the subject. "Whether to go past the church or through the alley is up for grabs."

"Church?" questioned Seraph with a raise of his eyebrow. "In a place such as this? To what god is it attributed?"

Tseng frowned as he thought about it before realizing he had no clue. However, Elena did have the answer, having spent those few hours protecting Aeris when Midgar was attacked days prior.

"To Hephaestion, if I am not mistaken. One of the holy gods, a protector of Gaia," explained the blonde.

Seraph nodded his head in understanding, pondering the church. He was instantly curious about the building, wanting to see it for himself. The former General had never really set foot in a place such as a church – Hojo wouldn't have allowed any silly ideas like religion or spirituality – nor had he heard of Hephaestion. Beside him, Denzel shifted restlessly, already bored by the adult conversation.

"Would you like to see it?" questioned Elena, noting the dark-haired man's thoughtful expression.

Mossy green eyes looked up into hers as he inclined his head in answer. "That I would. Is it far?" he questioned, shooting a concerned look towards Denzel, who was already starting to form an affectionate nest in his heart and was swaying on his feet a bit tiredly. It had been a long and stressing day.

The blonde shrugged. "A block down the road and then Strife's house is just beyond," she responded.

Seraph inclined his head in understanding. "Very well then. Could you take me there?"

Elena looked to her boss with a questioning guess. He merely nodded his head in answer, so she shrugged.

"Sure. We go right."

The eclectic group turned right at the crossways and followed Elena as she led them up the street, Denzel trotting along at her side. Tseng and Seraph took up the rear, both men it seemed in deep thought,

"What do you know of the god Hephaestion?" Seraph asked, speaking to the silver-eyed man. He tried not to look too closely at Tseng, for fear that he would be recognized, but he was genuinely curious. He wondered how the Wutaiian had survived the Temple of the Ancients as well. It had been a vicious gut wound the other man had… not that Sephiroth wasn't glad to see a man that might have been his friend still live.

Tseng mused quietly as he considered the stranger's question. He didn't miss, however, Elena's surreptitious and knowing looks, which she kept casting over her shoulder. Her eyes would flicker between the two men before she returned her attention to Denzel, as if she were trying to tell him something. The blonde was convinced that Tseng had been alone for far too long. She had gotten it in her head lately to find someone for him, as if he had time for such a thing.

"He is not one of those that I am familiar with. I know he has something to do with the Ancients and being their guardian or something along those lines."

"Interesting," the former General commented but said nothing more. They fell into a short silence; the only sounds were Elena's quiet laughter with the child and their feet clomping noisily over the broken and cracked pavement.

Tseng slipped into his thoughts easily enough, casting sidelong glances at the other dark-haired man. That feeling of vague familiarity passed over him again, and he resisted the urge to sigh aloud. Instead, he turned to more conversation. Though not really the talkative type, he knew it would distract him.

"Why did you leave ShinRa?" Tseng queried, for lack of a better topic. "It seems you are skilled. You would have been promoted if you had remained."

Seraph frowned, not really meeting the Wutaiian's silver eyes. "I didn't agree with their methods… in many ways. Including how they treated their grunts."

Tseng eyed him carefully. "When was this?" he questioned, wondering just how long the dark-haired man had been searching for his friend. Especially since he had claimed to either know or know of Cloud.

The former General did some quick calculations in his head. The Nibelheim incident was just over five years ago, and he, as Seraph, would have known Cloud sometime around then. Give or take another few years to get fed up with ShinRa… an efficient length of time for him to be searching and led to Midgar… "I joined ShinRa's army about six years ago, deserted about three and started searching for Caryn about four months ago," he finally answered, choosing his words carefully.

"Why did you wait so long to look for him?"

Seraph sighed. It was time to put his best lying skills to use. The ones he had been taught as a SOLDIER when faced with an enemy interrogation. "Caryn and I had a… falling out you could say, with my decision to leave ShinRa," the dark-haired man explained.

At his words, the Wutaiian couldn't help but form an image involving lots of screaming and thrown objects. Perhaps even a physical confrontation had occurred. Simply from the way that Seraph spoke of his friend, Tseng was led to think that Caryn may have been more than just a friend… maybe even a lover.

"With the destruction of Midgar and the whole Meteor incident, I grew worried about his welfare, despite our argument. I wanted to make things right as well, so I started to look for him," Seraph finished, his explanation complete.

Tseng nodded his head in understanding. He opened his mouth to say something else but closed it again when he realized that they had arrived at the church. It didn't look any worse than usual, given the hole in the ceiling from Cloud raining from the sky and the general battering it took. The Strifes had talked about fixing it up but really hadn't had the time as of yet, things not really having the chance to settle down since Sephiroth and Meteor.

The dark-haired stranger stood and took in the appearance of the building, somewhat gaping at the large wooden doors and stained glass. It wasn't that huge of a building, but it was somewhat intricate. Elena gestured that he should enter.

"Be careful of the floor," she warned. "It is beginning to rot in some places."

Seraph nodded in response before moving past both Turks and Denzel to push open one side of the double doors and step into the church. The others declined entering with him, which suited him just fine. He couldn't explain his curiosity with the church or his sudden desire to see it, but for some reason he felt drawn to the establishment.

He stepped through the portal to the church, letting the door shut behind him and calmly took in his surroundings. It was very dim, all electricity having seemingly been cut off. However, a small corona of light shone down at the far end of the church, a bed of flowers growing within its circumference. Seraph walked carefully into the building, watching his step and listening for the creak or crack of the wooden floor.

Something about the building made him feel at peace, as if the worry that had been building in him over meeting with Strife was slowly beginning to dissipate. The very sight of the healthy and colorful flowers growing in such a seemingly decrepit and forgotten place was encouraging, and the building seemed to radiate a calming aura. He walked down the aisle until he stood at the very edge of the circle of light, looking up into the broken roof where the illumination was coming through. The garden seemed to be the very epitome of hope.

He knelt, black leather creaking slightly as he reached out touched one of the yellow flowers that grew there, surprised by how very strong it was. He had initially intended to pick it, maybe take the plant with him. However, something strongly urged him not to, and he left it alone. He took a moment to breathe in the fresh scent of the flowers before standing and swiftly leaving the church.

The others were patiently waiting for him outside, looking up when he exited through the doors, as if expecting him to say something.

"Well?" the blond questioned. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Seraph regarded her coolly, not really sure how to answer that question considering he hadn't even intended to look for anything. "You could say that," he responded.

She seemed satisfied with that answer and gestured towards the path to the right. "We should keep going. It's going to be dark soon and the monsters make their presence known in greater abundance after the sun falls."

The former General nodded in acquiescence, quickly rejoining their line as they trotted down the street, Strife's house not that far in the distance. As they walked, the adults were silent, most listening to Denzel's idle and nonsensical chatter.

Elena appeared to be paying the brunet her strictest attentions, but in reality she was considering the stranger and her boss. She was an observant woman and had caught the interested glances that Tseng had bestowed upon the oblivious man. She had also caught the contemplative looks that Seraph had returned, though neither knew it. Already the cogs in her mind were turning, provided the stranger turned out to be someone who could be trusted of course.

The short walk was spent in silence among the adults, as it seemed they had run out of things to say for the time being. Tseng was considering all that Seraph had told him while the former General was wondering if Cloud would recognize him or not. Elena was scheming.

Within minutes, the eclectic foursome stood patiently outside the Strife household, while Tseng wandered up to the door and knocked loudly several times. It was a small home, only one story, but it was clean and ordered with many flowers growing in boxes out front. It looked a lot like the perfect family home, at least to Seraph. He had to fight down the urge to shift nervously on his feet as he stood next to Elena and Denzel. He couldn't help but wonder if Strife would recognize him… and what would happen if he did.

The Turk commander stepped back from the door and waited patiently. A moment later the door opened, revealing spiky blond hair and shining mako blue eyes. They centered first on the Wutaiian, widening in surprise.

"Tseng? What are you doing here?" Cloud asked with shock. His eyes traveled over those that were with the commander, identifying Elena before landing on the dark-haired man beside her. He did an obvious double-take as his eyes ran over the tall man's features, instant recognizing him for who he was.

An accusing gaze shot over to Tseng moments before his hand disappeared beside the doorway, wrapping around the sword that he kept on hand there for would be thieves. "Sephiroth!" snarled the former SOLDIER as he dove out the door, Buster Sword at the ready.

Tseng and Elena stared in shock at their newly found friend as he didn't move a step, acceptance for his fate clearly registered on his features. Everything seemed to move so slowly, Seraph bowing his head in resignation, the Wutaiian's look of sudden disbelief, Cloud dashing out the door in a murderous rage, unable to contain his anger… and Denzel suddenly moving, clinging to the front of the former General's body, burying his face in the man's shirt as he wrapped his arms around Seraph.

Cloud came to a sudden and abrupt halt as time picked up again, regarding the child with a confused expression.

"Sephiroth?" Tseng queried aloud, his voice registering his slight surprise and breaking the sudden silence as he turned to lock his gaze on the man he had thought a stranger.

"Yes!" spat Cloud. "You think I wouldn't recognize his face? He's cut his hair and dyed it. I don't know how he changed his eye color, but it's him all the same. Why are you protecting him?" he asked, turning his gaze on the little boy.

Denzel shrank under the anger but didn't say a word, only buried his face further in Seraph's front. The black leather gloved hand of the former General came up and to run his fingers through the boy's hair in a gesture of fondness.

"I won't begrudge you killing me," said Seraph softly, careful not to sound threatening. "If you must slay me… do not let the child see." He locked eyes with the man who had once idolized him, who he had almost killed, and who had nearly succeeded in taking him down on his own.

Mako blue eyes narrowed in anger as he considered the dark-haired man's words, his grip tightening almost painfully on the handle of his sword. He wondered how he was going to get the confused child away from his sworn enemy. Obviously, the boy didn't know who he was dealing with.

"Cloud?" Aeris' voice suddenly broke into the tension as she appeared in the doorway, waddling somewhat under the weight of her pregnancy. Her jade eyes instantly took in the events, gasping softly at Seraph. "It was to be you?" she questioned, her gaze zeroing in on him. She barely registered the boy wrapped around his waist, though her eyes registered her confusion. Who was the child?

Mossy green orbs widened at the sight of the flower-girl. Hadn't he killed her, too? Did no one he slay remain dead? It seemed all his ghosts were coming back to haunt him… though it left him with a measure of peace knowing that he hadn't ruined quite as many lives as he believed. He only wished that he could see Zack once more as well.

However, it was her words that confused him. What was to be him? "I don't know what you are talking about…" murmured Sephiroth shaking his head in denial. His body was wound up tight, the fight instinct still trying to kick in at the sight of the sharp sword still aimed for him. He worried for Denzel as well, the child not releasing his protective hold on him. He thought it cute that the brunet had already gotten attached to him so quickly…

"Tseng!" Cloud barked, narrowing his angry gaze on the Turk commander. "What is the meaning of this? How the hell did he get here?"

The Wutaiian forced himself to recover from his shock; his feelings of recognition were true after all. "We found him trying to fight off a pack of mutated Nibel wolves and protecting the boy. We helped them, and he told us his name was Seraph Noire and that he was searching for a friend. The boy, he told us, was not his own but was looking to find him a home. We thought that Aeris and you would be willing to take Denzel in," explained the Turk, still processing the events.

The blond man nearly shook with his anger as he kept his sword raised high, unable to relax enough to let it down in the presence of his once greatest foe… a man he had not even been able to defeat on his own. Every nerve in his body was telling him to strike the traitorous former General down, never mind how he had come back to life. It had been ingrained in him to kill Sephiroth. He didn't want to think that their battle of six months prior, and Vincent's subsequent sacrifice, was for naught.

Abruptly, Cloud felt a calming hand on his shoulder and half-turned, seeing his wife behind him with a knowing look in her eyes. She sought to calm him, but it only halfway worked. He was still strung tightly, unable to stop the urge to kill, which rose in him every time he looked at the man that was once his mentor.

"Did you know?" he questioned the flower-girl quietly, ignoring the others for the moment. "Did the Planet say that he was alive?"

She shook her head in denial. "Not him specifically, no. I was told that they were bringing a warrior to fight the oncoming evil. That we would need his strength if we were to win, but Gaia never specified who." Her gaze centered on the man in question, it almost seeming like she was looking right through him. "I never expected it to be him, however."

Mako eyes narrowed before they centered on the former General. "That's because he is not! This is some farce or trick of Jenova!"

Seraph sighed. "I know nothing of what you speak of, nor do I know why I was granted this second chance…"

"Shut up!" Cloud snarled. "Quit hiding behind the child and fight me like you intended!"

"Cloud!" exclaimed Aeris, surprised by his very vehemence. Sephiroth had so far, made no attempts to attack them, even looking as if he would allow Cloud to strike him down where he stood, were it not for the child blocking his way. It could have been just a ruse, but Aeris felt the stirring in her heart and the voice of the planet that it was not. This was truly a different Sephiroth then they had fought before.

The blond man shook his head. "No, Aeris. I cannot believe that the Planet would bring a murderer back to life, for any reason."

Seraph regarded him calmly for a moment before looking down at the child that clung to him. "Denzel…" he said softly, garnering the boy's attention. Innocent brown eyes looked up at him. "Please go to Elena."

The boy shook his head 'no' fiercely as he buried his face further into the former General's shirt. Seraph sighed before rubbing the hair on the boy's head and glancing once at Elena. She nodded in understanding as she moved forward, unsure as to why she was agreeing to help Sephiroth but more concerned for the boy than anything.

"Go with Elena," commanded the General more firmly as he pried the boy from his front and pushed him towards the blonde Turk. Denzel began to cry, resisting all movement as he turned red-rimmed eyes towards the man who had saved his life. The others watched this with observant eyes, Aeris' heart going out to the poor boy. He seemed so worried for Sephiroth.

His face grim, the dark-haired man continued to push the boy forward until Elena claimed him, pulling the brunet towards Aeris. Denzel continued to weep as Aeris knelt slightly, enveloping him in a hug. He clung tightly to her, begging in his childlike voice not to hurt his 'Seph'.

"How can a child be so wrong?" Elena murmured under her breath as her heart ached at the sight of the crying Denzel.

Her words, however, were not heard by the former members of ShinRa. Both Seraph and Cloud were eyeing each other carefully now that there was no longer a Denzel-shaped barrier between them. Tseng was standing off to the side, observing their movements, realizing that there was nothing he could do but watch and wait. This was a problem between them; he had no part of it. He could take up with the liar on his own at a later time… provided that Cloud didn't kill him first.

He hoped that the blond man would realize, however, that this Sephiroth was not the same as the one that had tried to destroy the Planet six months prior. There was no mocking in his gaze or speech, no madness in his eyes. Only regret and sadness reflected in mossy green orbs. Tseng wondered if the former SOLDIER's anger was too great to see the truth.

Seraph made his movements slow, never taking his eyes off Cloud. He took the sword that Gilgamesh had given him from its makeshift holster and slowly laid it on the ground before taking a step backwards from the weapon. Before… he never would have done such a thing, never unarmed himself before the enemy. Yet, he could no longer consider Cloud the enemy. If this was to be his retribution, his repentance for the pain he had caused, he would gladly accept it. He should have been stronger then… he should have resisted the siren's haunting call.

"What are you doing?" hissed Cloud, surprise registering on his face.

"I will not fight you," responded the former General. "I've no wish to hurt another innocent again."

"Why not? You had no problem with it before. Did you suddenly grow a conscience?"

Seraph lowered his eyes, unable to come up with a proper response. Truly he had none but his apologies, but didn't think they would be accepted. He had to try, however.

"I only have my deepest regret to offer," the former General answered in a voice so soft, it was rather difficult to hear.

Cloud chewed on his lip in indecision, anger floating behind his every thought. His gaze darted from the unarmed Seraph to the crying child to Aeris' hopeful face. He cursed angrily, more to himself than anyone else, before waving a hand at the former General. The man staggered suddenly and slowly sunk, catching himself almost immediately. His gaze flashed to Cloud for an instant, and he stopped resisting the magic. Before he could speak another word, Seraph's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground.

His face scrunching up in an almost unidentifiable emotion, Cloud wasted no time in turning around and angrily punching the side of the building, trying to both dispel the fight tension in his body and displaying his irritation at not being able to destroy the man that had killed his beloved once upon a time.

Elena gasped in surprise, looking towards the blond swordsman. "What did you do?"

"I didn't kill him if that's what you are asking!" Cloud snapped as he turned to glance over his shoulder. "I merely put him to sleep. He must not have any status protecting armor equipped. Pretty stupid if you ask me."

Tseng moved to the fallen man's side, checking him. "Sleeping soundly," he confirmed before looking up at Cloud. "What now?"

The former SOLDIER sighed as he lowered his weapon, jabbing it into the rough dirt so that it would remain upright, and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "I still don't trust him, but if that kid is willing to cry and throw himself in front of him… I can't just kill him. Especially if he won't fight back."

"Cloud," called out Aeris softly, still trying to console Denzel. "It is supposed to be him, though I cannot fathom why."

This revelation only caused the blond swordsman to sigh further before eyeing the Wutaiian Turk. "You have cuffs don't you? And a jail at Neo-ShinRa HQ? Can you keep him there until we figure out what's going on?"

Tseng mused idly as Elena nodded, she being the one to have the cuffs. Leaving Denzel's side, she knelt at the fallen Seraph's side, quickly pulling his hands behind his back and subduing them with the metal restraints. "If he is truly Sephiroth, I don't see how our jails can hold him."

"He is!" snapped Cloud. "My memory might fail me at times, but I know that bastard's face. If he is really repentant, then he won't try to break out. But if he does, then I will kill him on sight. It's that simple."

"Seph saved me," murmured the child quietly, his voice carrying through the adult conversation. "Please don't kill him."

Cloud closed his eyes, trying to damper his fury and soften his own voice. He moved to kneel beside the boy, trying to lock eyes with him. "I won't hurt him unless he tries to hurt my friends, okay?"

Denzel nodded in understanding, looking pitiful with his red-rimmed eyes and lower lip poked out.

Elena shook her head in disbelief. "What the hell ever happened to peace?" she questioned aloud. "Monsters attacking the cities… strange goings on everywhere and then Sephiroth suddenly appearing… madness has descended upon Gaia."

"And I get the strange feeling it is only going to get worse," murmured Tseng, moving to the sword that Seraph had placed on the ground. He bent over and picked it up, observing the blade.

"This is not the Masamune, but it is very similar. I wonder where he got it," he stated aloud. He noticed there were strange markings on the blade but couldn't make them out or read them. They were in a language he was not familiar with.

Cloud sighed. "I'll cast Silence and Darkness for good measure, then you can wake him up. That way he won't be any bit of a threat to you while you two take him to ShinRa HQ. I'll get Denzel settled in here before I join you. It might also be a good idea to call Reeve."

"If you can get through to him," replied Elena. "The circuits are still having trouble with all the lines down, and I know he's in Wutai. They, he and Archer, think Reno is there."

Aeris shook her head, chuckling lightly. "It never leaves you, does it?" she questioned of her husband. "That natural knack for leadership…"

He shrugged idly, eyes still alit with some form of anger. "It is a matter of necessity." His gaze fell on the still sleeping General as his voice dropped in timber. "Why couldn't you just stay dead," he mused aloud. "Why couldn't you just stay in our memories and leave us in peace?"

It didn't help that the others were wondering the very same thing.

----

Review please!


	32. No More Tears

----- meanwhile

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Thought'

**Chapter 32: No More Tears**

The lion wolf padded quietly down the hall of one of the few buildings that had survived the attack on Cosmo Canyon. It was one that the council had chosen to house their meetings, and it was to one such gathering that he was heading to that very moment.

None of the council knew of his recent transformation, he and Yuffie having been hiding that fact since it occurred. However, a meeting had been called and as the representative of his tribe and Bugenhagen's successor, he was required to go.

The ninja had opted to remain behind, boring meetings not her forte, or so she had claimed. This was fine with Nanaki as it would give him time to think without having her around, not that he didn't like being with the dark-haired beauty.

Yet, things were harder now that he wasn't human-like. He could no longer think of her in the same terms as before, and he couldn't help but wonder what she thought of him now. Anything more than the friendship that had been building between them was being quickly forgotten in the face of the harsh reminder of his true form.

He felt even more alone now than he had ever before. With the failure in locating the trail of his tribe – or more like being dissuaded from the path due to the barrier – he still didn't know whether or not he was the last. Until he could find that information, he preferred to think he was so that he would not be disappointed. Yet, if that was so… then he was doomed to a life of loneliness.

He had been foolish to entertain notions of something like love and romance, even if he had been in a human-like form. As they say, all good things must come to an end, and he had suffered a rude awakening. He couldn't expect Yuffie, no matter how good her heart was, to continue to care for him in the form of a lion wolf.

The most they could be from now on was friends, but with the memories of what could have been, was that even possible? He knew he cared for her very deeply, the thoughts of their kisses would have made him blush if it were possible in his form. She had such a wonderful scent – and citrus… she always tasted of citrus. He didn't know how it was achievable for someone to taste that good.

Would things be awkward between them now? Would he lose her friendship, as well as the opportunities for things that never would have been in the first place? He feared that more than anything; he dreaded the loss of her companionship. Since the defeat of Sephiroth, the ninja had been a constant by his side, learning along with him from Bugenhagen and fighting to protect Cosmo Canyon.

Despite her somewhat sneaky tendencies and sticky fingers, which she was beginning to mature out of it, the ninja had other qualities that Nanaki found endearing. He loved how she could make a joke out of near everything and that she cared very deeply for those that mattered to her, evident by how sad she was with the ex-Turk's death.

She was smart and strong, nearly fearless in battle and almost a perfect match for him strength for strength. They understood each other better than some of the others in the group, simply for being the youngest out of them all. That had been their bond in the beginning, that and the fact that everyone was annoyed by the ninja's exterior, not taking the time to see beneath the surface.

In all regards, Yuffie was his best friend, and before the unfortunate transformation, it almost seemed like they were becoming more. The tentative steps they were taking in a romantic direction, from the awkward kisses to the shy glances, seemed almost more than he was worthy of.

He knew that they both had misgivings. Yuffie because of an arranged marriage she did not want and he because of his form, but in the days spent together, it was easy to forget those circumstances. It was almost like they were isolated from the world. The more time they spent in the presence of one another… the more they were losing themselves to the fairy tale they were creating.

They hadn't talked about anything since the loss of his demi-human form. Mostly random things like the weather, weapons, and the rebuilding of Cosmo Canyon. Neither of them had been willing to bring up the topic of his recent transformation or where their relationship was going to go.

He simply feared rejection but wasn't sure what was going through Yuffie's mind. Nanaki did know, however, that sooner or later they were going to have to talk because the thin line of tension that now separated them was going to do more damage to their friendship then trying to ignore the problem all together.

In the end, the only thing that mattered to him was keeping that companionship. He could deal with loneliness for the rest of his life, even if she moved on to love another and marry someone else. He could learn to live with it if he could still have her friendship. That was worth far more to him than anything else, though he wouldn't have minded finally being able to love himself.

But now, with his form and future unknown, he would rather believe in reality and prepare himself for the inevitable. It was how he had been coping long before he had met her, and it would suffice. After all, he had much practice in being the only one of his kind. Now would be no different.

With that thought firmly entrenched in his mind and firmly pushing away the pangs in his heart at the thought of Yuffie being with another, the fire wolf pushed open the door to the council chambers with a large paw and stepped inside, prepared to deal with the inevitable questions and stares.

"Oh, Nanaki, you have… transformed?" came the startled voice of one councilman Kenneth Shavers, the General Head of Advisory. He was a portly man with a balding head but also a general kindness to him that Nanaki found soothing.

The fire lion ducked his head in acknowledgement as he padded into the conference room, taking a seat at the remaining chair that had been reserved for him. From his vantage point, he could see all five council members clearly.

Other than Kenneth and to his right, there was Dawn Weathers, the Head of Agriculture, a slim, pale woman with freckles and a continuously somber expression. To her right was River Tawney, the Chief of Treasury since the council was first started. He was an elderly man, though still sharp of wit with shining brown eyes and long, whitened hair – not unlike Bugenhagen.

To his right was Summer Cole, Head of Machinery. Her job was to make sure that the wind mills were working properly, and she also aided in the rebuilding project. She had short spunky, red hair that went well with her sprightly attitude. Nanaki could also count on her to keep the council interesting.

To her right was Jewel Skies, the Chief of Homeland Happiness and Security. She was the one truly in charge of the rebuilding project, though Summer helped her. Jewel tended to be rather pessimistic and, at times, ground on Nanaki's nerves, so he only tolerated her.

As for himself, as Bugenhagen's replacement, he was the Education Minister. Not really an interesting job, but someone had to do it. It would be his until he could train someone else to take his place, if he so desired.

"Yes, Kenneth. I don't know why this time, but it is a rather unfortunate event," Nanaki responded to the councilman's earlier observation. "What are we to discuss today?"

"You have still found nothing in your grandfather's notes?" Dawn questioned, a slight frown to her face.

The lion wolf shook his head negatively. "Yuffie and I have spent countless hours scouring what few tomes remain after the fire. Whatever information he had either burned up or went with him."

River sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. "That is rather unfortunate."

"Nevertheless, I am certain Nanaki does not want to sit around in here while we tell him what he already knows," Kenneth added in, eyeing each member around the circular table. He leaned forward, crossing his arms, palms down on the table top. "We wanted to discuss the plans for rebuilding."

Nanaki made himself comfortable in the chair as he prepared to listen to the council. It looked as if to be another boring meeting, a reiteration of what things he already knew, and so he settled for being only half-attentive and returning to his own thoughts.

As their conversation drifted in and out of his attention, he turned to other more important matters, like his new form and the state of Gaia. He allowed himself to worry about Yuffie and the fate of the world as he contemplated the war that was in development and exactly what foe they faced this time around.

He couldn't explain it, but he somehow knew that Vincent was in the center of it. He hadn't quite bought the whole 'the planet needs a sacrifice' that everyone else believed in and, as a product of a great deal of deep thinking, believed that there was more going on then what was known.

The only thing left was to figure out what… an easier task thought than accomplished. He internally sighed as Summer and River began to bicker over funding.

It was going to be a long day.

---

He woke up slowly, the memories of the night before still on his tongue and on his mind. He felt a weight and warmth on his side, instantly recognizing the familiar exotic scent as Vincent. It had been awhile since he had woken with such a content feeling in his heart and another body in his bed. The pilot found that he rather liked the idea and never wanted it to end again.

The gunman was lying on one of his arms, a leg carelessly thrown over him. Cid snuck a glance at the now slightly tanned man, almost surprised by the relaxation in Vincent's features. Even before, he had rarely caught the man with a peaceful look while he slept.

More often than not, the gunman had been haunted by vicious nightmares that the pilot had to soothe at night, though Vincent had never been aware of it. It wasn't until the latter stages of their relationship that the nightmares had begun to fade, almost as if they were chased away by his very presence.

The change to the gunman's features didn't upset him at all. Though he would miss the skin that was almost like porcelain and the fiery crimson eyes, he found amber skin and a stormy gaze just as suited for the ex-Turk as all the exotics before.

The left hand – he knew by a glance – was horribly scarred, so much so that Cid was surprised that Vincent could move it normally and not pull at the skin. The golden claw that once resided there he had in his room on the Highwind. Perhaps if the ex-Turk wanted it, Cid would return it.

Nevertheless, the pilot was just happy to have the man he loved back in his arms, no matter his appearance. If Vincent had returned horribly disfigured, he would have been pleased just to see him alive. He supposed that's what being in love meant, not caring for outward appearances. And by all accounts, it seemed the ex-Turk's personality had not changed either. That was what he had fallen in love with in the first place.

The withdrawn man who cared enough for others that he felt responsible for their well-being, the man who hid his feelings behind an impassive mask for fear of being hurt again… that was the man that Cid had given his heart to. He didn't want Vincent to change, perfectly content with him the way he was.

He had never expected – on the day he decided to join the eclectic group of Anti-ShinRa – that he would find someone who would burst into his life and basically claim him. He had never anticipated running into the mysterious red-clothed figure that had appeared in his rocket again. Nor did he imagine that he would start a relationship with the beautiful man and eventually give him his heart.

It was the type of situation that occurred once in a million. It was almost as if it were fated, if Cid was the sort of person to really believe in fate. He believed more that life was what he made of it, rather then some predestined course.

A sudden urging in his bladder made him push his thoughts aside for the moment as he carefully extricated himself from the dark-haired man's grasp. Trying not to wake him, he slowly removed the limbs that were wrapped around his body and slipped out of the bed. The sleeping gunman made a small noise of protestation before unconsciously resettling himself into a comfortable position.

On the verge of becoming overly sentimental, the pilot quietly but quickly hurried from the room into the bathroom across the hall. It wasn't exactly dark in the room, the beginnings of the rising sun peeking in through the curtains, illuminating things so that he did not strike his hips or toes on anything uncomfortable.

The house was mostly silent, it still being early in the morning. He doubted even early-bird Shera was up yet. The room that Rude and she shared down the hall had a tightly closed door, and he didn't even attempt to try and hear anything. He didn't want to.

His mind began to wander again as he concluded his business in the bathroom, washing his hands in the sink and idly staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like shit; there was no way around it, though the small amount of sleep he had gotten the previous night had significantly improved him.

In fact, he realized sardonically, it was almost ironic. His skin had paled some with his lack of regard for his own health. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was in desperate need of another trim before it got to the point when he would actually have to brush it.

He could probably use a shave, but he knew that when it grew back, it would only reach its current state and stop growing. He looked incredibly tired and worn. No wonder the first word out of Vincent's mouth had been that he looked thin. He had lost weight… and a significant amount at that.

Sighing softly to himself, he dried his hands on the towel before flipping the light off and wandering back into the room that had been loaned to Vincent.

He was glad that the ex-Turk had returned to him. More than glad… elated, relieved, finally feeling as if he could live again, feeling like himself… all of those emotions were running through him over and over, in a never ending circuit of feeling. But he was also contemplative.

He wondered where Vincent had been in the six months that he had searched. He had gone to every town and city, explaining his appearance and asking about him, often more than once. He had scoured every upwelling of the Lifestream and visited the crater on several occasions.

He knew that with the changes in his appearance and loss of memory, it was possible that Vincent could have been anywhere. The pilot wondered if there was anything further he could have done, short of entering every house in every town and scouring it top to bottom to find the missing dark-haired man.

The Captain slipped back into the bed, scooting closer to the ex-Turk's warmth, mildly surprised when he found semi-alert grey eyes regarding him with interest. He flashed the dark-haired man a small smile as he idly considered asking Vincent where he had been.

"Good morning," he said softly. "Though it is still early."

Vincent nodded in response before blinking slowly, the look on his face strangely contemplative. He scoured the pilot's face for a moment before seeming to make a decision. As Cid opened his mouth to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, the gunman chose that moment to speak.

"Gongaga," he said simply. "I was in Gongaga under the kindness of strangers." His voice was quiet, almost as if it were difficult for him to say the words.

The pilot nodded in understanding as he lay next to the gunman. "Your claw washed up on the shore of Cosmo Canyon, but I never found out until a few days ago." He paused, laughing somewhat sardonically. "Apparently, they thought they were protecting me from more heartache."

"I never even realized that I still had my arm underneath that cursed thing," the gunman mused quietly, absentmindedly bringing up his scarred left hand and looking at it. "Damn Hojo and the holes in my memories…"

Cid gently reached out and took the hand, rubbing his fingers absentmindedly over the long upraised scars. "I never minded the claw," he said, pulling the hand towards his face and kissing it softly. However, the look in his eyes was anything but tender, heated in its intensity.

Vincent reached out with his free hand and grabbed the pilot, pulling him in for a kiss. They pressed their lips together, tongues snaking out to tangle and swap spit. The ex-Turk had always found it satisfying to kiss the pilot, the strange mix of cigarettes and tea that he always tasted of something the gunman never forgot.

He pulled back from the kiss, feeling the sudden need to relate that information to the pilot. "No matter that I had forgotten my name. I couldn't forget you. Your smell, your voice, the feel of your hands on me…" he trailed off, looking into eyes the color of the sky as he traced a hand down the front of the pilot's bared and well-muscled chest.

"How long would you have searched?" Vincent asked softly after a moment; it was a question that had been burning on his mind. He hadn't truly known the depth of the blond's love for him to do such a thing.

Cid responded in all seriousness, "As long as it took." There was no doubt in his gaze. He truly meant it.

-----

This is where it gets all down and dirty but because I am deathly afriad of getting deleted, you do not get to read it. So feel free to visit my homesite for the TRUE chapter 32. LOL.

----

The two men collapsed against the bed, breathing heavily as sweat coated their bodies. Vincent struggled to roll over so that he was not crushing the somewhat shorter man as he attempted to calm his racing heart and allow his mind to return to his body. The feeling of familiarity and being home was wreaking havoc on his emotions, trying to turn him sentimental.

Hands ran over his bared chest as Cid half-turned and enveloped him in a bruising kiss. Vincent wrapped his own arms around the blond man, holding him close as their tongues tangled together with labored breathing against each other's mouths.

"I see there were some things you did not forget," teased the pilot almost breathlessly as he gently pulled back from the kiss.

Vincent shook his head in near disbelief at Cid. "Only you would have such a thing to say," he commented quietly before frowning slightly. "Still… that was a rather… unfortunate way for me to regain my memory." He was referring to what had occurred the night before.

Cid laughed. "That was an ungraceful tumble ya took down the stairs. If I hadn't of been so concerned, I might have laughed. But now I feel like I can."

A smile tugged at the corners of the gunman's mouth. Six months and still nothing had changed; there was something immensely soothing in that fact. He didn't respond, however, not really finding that he had anything to say that wasn't extremely fluffy and sweet, something he really didn't do.

After a parting kiss, the pilot rolled over and blindly reached on the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes he had stashed there. He shook out the carton and had just managed to get one of the sticks into his hand when it was plucked away and tossed into the trash near the door, a perfect score. He turned shocked eyes onto the gunman, who was already reaching for the pack.

"No," Vincent explained, shaking his head. "You don't need those anymore."

"C'mon, Vince," pleaded the pilot. "You can't expect me to quit cold turkey."

Yet, the look on the ex-Turk's face was grim. "You're killing yourself with these, Cid, and don't think I don't realize the reason why." His voice dropped in volume, a bit of guilt creeping in.

The blond shook his head fiercely, dropping the pack on the floor and sitting up so that he could speak more freely, Vincent rising as well. "You can't blame yourself for my choices," returned the pilot. "I was smoking well before you came along."

"Almost a pack a day?" questioned the gunman with a raised eyebrow. "You've lost weight… you look as if you hadn't slept in months. Gods, Cid, you look like you've been trying to die!"

"Well, what do you fucking expect?" demanded Cid, nearly yelling. "You were gone, and I had nothing else. Nothing! I was nobody… not the Captain… not Cid! Dying would have been a relief!"

A dark shadow passed over the ex-Turk's face as he regretted his words. The pain clearly evident in those sky-blue eyes shot straight to his heart, and he knew a guilt even stronger than his failure of Lucrecia. Without another word, he reached forward and grabbed the blond, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, apologizing for more than his words but also for the six months that the pilot had to suffer almost entirely alone.

Cid didn't speak, trying to rein in the tears that were threatening to spill. He hadn't cried in awhile, suppressing them after the first few weeks of Vincent being gone. He certainly didn't want to start back again. After all, the ex-Turk was back. There was no longer a need for tears.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," replied the Captain gruffly, trying to cover up the lump in his throat as he grabbed the ex-Turk's chin and kissed him gently, soothing the excessive remorse that he knew the guilt-prone man was beginning to build within him.

A smile tugged at the corner of Vincent's mouth as the kiss ended. He looked into sky-blue eyes, again surprised by how much they made him feel warm and fluttery inside. Gah! He was becoming sappier by the minute.

"We're a mess, aren't we?" questioned the pilot.

The gunman shrugged. "No more so than anyone else. It only seems that way because we have unnaturally happy people to go by."

Cid grinned. "You mean like Reeve and Reno and Rude and Shera?" He laughed lightly. "They are a rather unique pair, aren't they?"

Vincent shook his head, shifting their position until they were both lying back down on the bed again, fatigue settling into him. He wouldn't let go of the other man, however, sensing that for the moment, he needed to be touched.

"I'm sure that they say the same thing of us."

The pilot grinned, reaching down for the scattered blankets and pulling them up over their figures. There was a bit of a chill to the air in the room, probably a result of the thermostat being set too high. Yet, rather than get up and check it, he felt conveniently lazy enough to just pull on the blankets.

He settled back down comfortably on the bed, not bothering to respond to Vincent's comment because he had nothing to say. He was content to just lie there next to him, even if they did nothing else.

----

The emotions between the two just keep oscillating, don't they? Review Please! And thanks to my other reviewers! I appreciate every last one of you to the depths of my writing soul!


	33. True Lies

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Thought'

**Chapter 33: True Lies**

The Wutaian Turk rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to quell the migraine that was threatening to overcome him. He was leaning against the wall in the corridor that housed the jail cells. Cloud was sitting in a chair a little off to the side, and Sephiroth was behind the bars, sitting cross-legged on the makeshift bed and regarding them coolly. He shifted to tuck his ankles underneath him, leaning back against the wall.

"Why are you here?" the spiky-haired blond repeated, his face red with anger.

The man who claimed to be Sephiroth – though not in so many words – sighed and put his hand to his forehead in a gesture similar to the Turks. "How many times must I repeat myself? I do not know. Retribution, perhaps? They were not exactly clear."

"Who?" Tseng questioned, frowning intently. "Who was not clear?"

"I am not sure how to explain it," the mossy-eyed man murmured softly. "The voice of the planet perhaps. They were just voices." He exhaled, also rubbing his temple. "I just don't know."

Cloud huffed angrily and took several deep breaths. They were getting nowhere in their interrogation, learning nothing that the former General hadn't already said before. The blond was having trouble reining in his own fury at the sight of the man. He couldn't understand why the bastard was still alive, why he was even allowed the chance. For his deeds, Sephiroth deserved nothing more than death.

"What about Jenova?" the blond swordsman demanded. "Is she alive somewhere, too?"

Sephiroth shook his head as he fought down his irritation. He felt bad for his actions but that didn't stop him from being annoyed by the constant repeating of the same damn questions over and over again. He idly wondered where Gilgamesh had gotten to in the same moment that he contemplated how to answer Cloud's question in a way that the man would finally understand.

He was glad to see his former subordinate so powerful now, glad to see that he hadn't managed to completely disrupt his life. Cloud had moved on, married, and now had a child on the way. With that information squirreled away, Sephiroth felt that perhaps it was possible for him to give retribution for his mistakes.

"I wouldn't know," murmured the former General. "I can no longer hear her if that is what you mean."

Tseng and Cloud exchanged glances, as if the Turk was confirming with the swordsman that Jenova had indeed fallen silent. The blond returned the gaze steadily, not having anything of importance to add.

"We are accomplishing nothing with these circuitous questions," Tseng muttered, sighing yet again. He turned his back on the two former enemies and idly rubbed his forehead again, wondering if they would notice if he snuck away and found a bottle of aspirin.

Cloud stood angrily. "What do you suggest then? Just let him roam free?"

"Don't be ridiculous," the Wutaian chided, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "I was merely stating that we are wasting time and getting nowhere. If we are not going to believe a word he says, then why bother asking to begin with?"

"He destroyed my hometown. Excuse me if I'm having trouble believing he's a good guy now!" argued the blond in return. He threw himself back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, shooting the man he had once looked up to a poisonous glare. In that moment he seemed very much the petulant child.

Sephiroth accepted the look in stride, keeping silent for the moment as the two men argued about his fate. The Turk Commander had a point. For the past hour they had done nothing but repeat the same questions and answers. It was both exhausting and mind-numbing. He wasn't sure what Cloud was looking for, but whatever it was, the swordsman still wasn't satisfied.

Tseng exhaled loudly and turned back around, pausing for a moment as a sudden thought hit him. He eyed the man in the cell, noting the change in both eye color – not an easy task to accomplish – and the change in hair color. Not to mention that the man he had observed fighting before seemed to have a lesser degree of skill than the Sephiroth he had once known. He wondered why the thought hadn't occurred to him.

The Turk spoke slowly, his thoughts becoming words. "Have you considered that he might be a fake?" he questioned Cloud. "We have not even asked him if he really is Sephiroth; we just automatically assumed."

Cloud opened his mouth to argue before he promptly snapped it shut, eyes turning inward as he pondered the Turks suggestion. He believed that he would automatically know the man that had been his idol on sight, but many years had passed since he had seen the true Sephiroth, and his memory wasn't that reliable to begin with. There was a good possibility that what he was relying on was somewhat skewed.

Which meant, that the Turk's question was a valid one, but they wouldn't know unless they asked.

"I am sorry," Sephiroth spoke quietly, cutting through the momentary tense silence. Two pairs of eyes turned towards him in unison. "I regret, in my madness, the destruction of your home." His gaze had lowered at this point, and he brought up his eyes slowly, not surprised to find the blond swordsman nearly shaking with the force of his anger.

Of all the things he had expected the stranger to say, that had not been one of them. He had anticipated bold proclamations of his identity or even outcries of his questionable validity.

But a quiet apology, almost without all pride… that was not what Cloud had imagined, and the very change in his expectations threw his already shaky emotions on a whirl.

The ex-SOLDIER clenched his fists as he struggled to contain himself, irrational anger bubbling up inside. "Your madness?" he hissed, more of a statement than a question. "And what of everything else you have done? Killing Aeris? Do you not feel ashamed of your other deeds?"

The man who claimed to be Sephiroth shook his head, attempting to keep his voice as level as possible. He was quite possibly ruining whatever ground he had gained with the next words he was going to say, but he had to get it out. He had to tell them so that they would look at him without false conceptions, even if they did not believe. At least then, he would have tried.

"Those were not my deeds. The moment I dove into the Lifestream five years ago, I was no longer Sephiroth as you knew him." (1) His voice dropped in tone, becoming completely lifeless as the memories of what Jenova had done in his form, while he helplessly watched, flashed through his mind. "Nevertheless, since I could not ignore her voice, I am in part to blame for what happened."

Cloud's jaw clenched. "I saw you with my own eyes," he growled. "I was not mistaken, no matter the instability of my memory. Zack and I saw the same damn person."

Mossy eyes gazed at him levelly, his last chance to make the truth understood. "My body but not my mind. You know, as well as I, what happens when a live person encounters the Lifestream. In my moment of weakness, my mind separated from my body and was replaced by the consciousness of Jenova, already stronger than me due to my anger and pain." His words shocked them into to silence. Seraph stated slowly, glancing away from them, "She merely drug me along for the ride, using whatever power I held and forcing me to watch as she destroyed everything that mattered to me… or at least attempted to do so." He purposely did not look at either of them.

The former General paused to catch his breath but continued before either of the others could recover fully and comment. "Even then it was her essence using my form because my body was frozen in a mako crystal." He finally glanced up at them again. "Unless you think that I suddenly acquired the ability to walk through walls and levitate," he added with a hint of censure, idly wondering how everyone had overlooked that little tidbit of information. It wasn't like he had been able to do such things before Nibelheim.

Tseng unconsciously crossed his arms over his stomach, as though trying to protect himself. However, he remained silent, staring at Seraph guardedly.

Cloud, on the other hand, was seething.

His fist slammed into the bars of the cell, sounding painful, though the emotion didn't appear on the blond swordsman's face. Only intense rage was there, and the metal poles rattled in their foundation. He glared at Sephiroth, who had barely stopped himself from jumping at the sound.

"You would dare tell me that! That what I know was nothing but a lie," he hissed angrily. It was a statement, not a question. "I am to believe you are not responsible for the death of thousands?"

Sorrow was etched into every feature of the former General's face. "I do not expect you to believe anything," he responded quietly.

Tseng, who was standing quietly by watching the proceedings, decided it was time he stepped in. At first, he had considered it just between Cloud and Sephiroth, but the swordsman's rationale was quickly disappearing, and they were not getting anything accomplished.

"Cloud," he said forcefully, a little more sharply than he had intended. "You are losing control. Calm down."

Tseng wanted to curse himself when that anger-filled mako glare turned onto him. He had never had to face the swordsman in the midst of combat like his subordinates, and seeing that look, he was suddenly glad that he had not. Remembering Reno's injuries from only one battle, Tseng vowed to himself that he would never again piss off the former SOLDIER.

He raised a fist and pointed a finger at the Wutaian. "You stay out of this. You are not my boss."

The Turk bristled indignantly as he narrowed his silvery gaze on the blond man, who was nearly the same height. A sharp retort was on the edge of his lips, but he fought to push it down, attempting to speak in a more civil fashion than the increasingly furious Cloud.

"With Reeve gone, I am in charge of ShinRa. I can have you thrown from this building," the Wutaian responded coldly though he wondered if it would even be possible.

"Is that a threat?"

"I was merely stating your few options. We cannot understand anything if you refuse to consider any options but what your own mind has already decided. Anger will gain us nothing and cause us to lose much."

Over to the side, Sephiroth watched the proceedings with a somewhat surprised expression. His captors had turned on each other. He had never expected his presence to cause that much disturbance that so-called allies would turn into arguing fiends. He began to wonder again why it was he was in Midgar and what his purpose for living truly was.

(This jail cell is pathetic. You have more than enough power to break out of it.)

The former General wasn't surprised to find that Gilgamesh had suddenly started speaking to him again. He revealed nothing to Cloud and Tseng, however, lest they think him crazy once again, as he addressed the demi-god in his head.

'It is a test more than anything,' Seraph responded mentally, watching the other two closely. 'They are attempting to see if I am as repentant as I say I am.'

(You should tell them of me. I know that the both of them are animus, but to whom, I am not certain,) Gilgamesh suggested. (Perhaps then the blond would know to listen to his promised. She, after all, hears hers as well.)

Seraph nodded internally before waiting patiently for a chance to speak. He hoped that by doing so, he was not going to cause even more issues. Yet, it was a chance he would have to take.

However, the two men were too busy arguing amongst themselves to pay any mind to him. Actually it was more Cloud was acting like an irrational idiot and Tseng patiently trying to make him see sense than an actual argument. Sephiroth gave the Wutaian an appraising glance; he couldn't help but admire the Turk for his steadfast tolerance. Then again, those steely silver eyes lighting up with annoyance might have been something worth seeing as well.

"Would a man not worth trust have the faith of a demi-god?" Seraph questioned, leaning forward to get a better look at the pair. His voice cut through their conversation, causing both men to turn immediately and stare at him in bewilderment. As Cloud furrowed his brow, he continued, determined to get through to them. "Don't you hear the voices as well?"

"I don't hear anything!" Tseng responded sharply before Cloud could even open his mouth. The Turk's tone had a hint of finality, as if there was to be no more discussion on the matter.

The former General was taken aback by the man's vehemence, having not even seen him become annoyed with the brash blond swordsman. He wondered if perhaps that meant that the Wutaian was lying as he narrowed his eyes, daring Sephiroth to ask again and face the consequences.

"You know as well as I do that it's in my best interest to ignore any voices," responded Cloud in a cold tone, glaring at Sephiroth even as he shot Tseng a strange look, also confused by his behavior. "Or have you forgotten what you said just minutes ago?"

"I have not. I was merely making an observation," Sephiroth acquiesced gracefully, leaning back against the wall.

(Perhaps you won't believe him, because you are still a bit afraid of him,) came a voice that was most familiar to the blond swordsman. He scowled, not realizing he had made the motion in view of everyone until Tseng shot him an odd look. He waved off the Turk before addressing the voice within.

'Why won't you just leave me alone?' he questioned. 'I don't need any more problems… especially none associated with more voices in my head.'

There was a whisper across his mind, more like the breathy sigh of someone with an annoyed demeanor. (Your promised, I know, has already told you that I am not Jenova and that you can trust me. Do you not at least believe her?)

'Don't play mind games with me!' Cloud growled in return. 'You're trying to manipulate me into believing you. I'll not fall for it again!'

"Cloud?" Tseng's questioning tone cut through his thoughts, and he looked up at the Wutaian in surprise.

"What?" he asked, wincing. Cloud was not even sure what was going on as he hadn't heard anything that had been said. His head was beginning to hurt, the stress of the day weighing heavily on his already fractured mind.

The Turk frowned. "Are you alright?" Silvery eyes watched the ex-SOLDIER cautiously, his hand discreetly inching to his katana.

The blond shook his head forcefully, putting a hand to his forehead and grinding it down as if to forestall the intense migraine. "I need some aspirin or… something."

The Wutaian eyed him for a moment before waving a hand of dismissal. "By all means, you have no need to stay here. I believe I can handle it." He continued to watch the blond, hand now hovering by his hip.

Mako eyes flickered between the Turk and the man in the cell for a moment, as if gauging Tseng's claims before he shrugged. Nodding his head in approval and then wincing because it made his headache worse, Cloud gave a flip of the wrist in a half-hearted goodbye as he strode for the door.

"I'll be back in a minute," he called out over his shoulder.

Tseng did not answer, finding nothing important to say as he moved over to the swordsman's now completely abandoned chair and sat down gracefully and gratefully, resisting the urge to exhale aloud in comfort. He was tempted to rub his temples again, realizing it was merely becoming a sign of irritation rather than an attempt at alleviating the problem.

Damn Reno for pointing out that little fact to him… double damn Elena for agreeing.

They sat in silence; now that Cloud was gone, the urgency for talking had faded. Tseng did not feel he had anything to say to the former General, and he did not expect Sephiroth to have any words in return. He relished the quiet, hoping it would allow the ache in his head to subside to a dull throbbing or less until Cloud returned.

"Forgive me," Sephiroth said quietly, voice cutting through the almost peaceful silence. Tseng looked up in surprise, startled that the man would just start suddenly speaking. "I know you may not believe me, but I am sorry for what was done in the Temple of the Ancients."

He shook his head, remembering how he had helplessly watched as the commander had been skewered by his sword, practically screaming a warning to the man just before it occurred. The former General clenched his fist in anger towards the blasted and bedamned creature that had lied to him.

"If I could just go back and change everything… if I had only never listened to the siren's cry," Sephiroth murmured, trailing off.

"Don't," Tseng responded, shaking his head. "I don't know why, and gods help me if I'm wrong, but I find myself believing your completely farfetched story." When Sephiroth gave him an almost hopeful gaze, he brought up a hand. "Before you think anything of it… this does not mean that you are getting out of this cell, just that I am considering the facts of your tale." He stared directly into Seraph's eyes, as though he were trying to read the truth written in them.

The General nodded in response, leaning back against the wall, the pair returning to their silence. If this man could forgive him, for a wrong that had been committed to his own life, to his own body, then perhaps someone else could. That was what Sephiroth believed.

"If we should believe your story," Tseng began slowly after several moments, silvery gaze locking onto his. "What will you do?"

Sephiroth furrowed his brow in concentration. There was only one reason he had come to Midgar, but now he faced another decision. He had been given a chance at a second life. It was rather selfish of him to only seek the truth of his birth when he had been so lucky. What if there was another purpose? This war that he had heard whispered between Tseng and Elena and then earlier in the conversation between Cloud and the Turk… what if he was to fight in it?

"I came to find the truth of my origins," he responded slowly, still going over his options in my mind. "But now I find that there is war on the winds, and I do not feel I can stand idly by."

The Wutaian looked at him, slight surprise registering in his features. "You would fight then? In a cause that you have no part of?"

The former General nodded. "I can think of no other reason for this gift."

(And therein lies the heart of the matter,) commented the demi-god within his mind. (At least, you are no longer wallowing in your own self-guilt and pity. War is most certainly on the winds, a war unlike anything the inhabitants of Gaia have felt in more than a thousand years. Your strength, along with that of others will be needed.)

Tseng sighed. "If it is the truth, then it is a worthy endeavor. However, this decision can not be made lightly. There are many who would kill first and ask questions later upon sight of you. If it had not been for Denzel… that would have been your fate."

Mossy eyes widened momentarily. "Denzel? I had nearly forgotten about him. Did you find him a home?"

The Turk was somewhat surprised by this genuine concern that he caught in the former General's expression, but he quickly schooled his features. These little feelings that he was allowing to slip through… perhaps what he spoke of was this truth.

"He is with Aeris right now. A bit upset that Cloud tried to hurt you but he is a child, he will be fine." A small smile tugged at the Turk's lips. "He has grown surprisingly attached for such a short amount of time."

Seraph tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I have heard once before that sometimes children can see what adults cannot."

Tseng mused quietly the smile growing ever so slightly. "Yes, there is that."

They fell into another silence, and it remained unbroken until Cloud returned some time later, both men absorbed by their thoughts and revelations. Many things had been cast into the light… but just as many had remained shadowed mysteries.

The phone struck the far wall with a resounding crash, bouncing against the wood before it fell to the ground, miraculously managing to not actually be harmed in its flight as Tifa had intended. Frowning intently – and pissed that she had not been able to destroy the object of her anger – the brunette stalked over to the rickety chair in the center of the room and plopped herself down upon it.

The chair creaked and groaned under her weight as it rocked back and forth for a moment, finally settling down as she relaxed into it. Exhaling harshly and rubbing her forehead fiercely with her fingers, Tifa tried to calm down.

She wondered where the hell her associate had gone if she was not going to answer her damn phone. She hated having to rely on the twit but had no other choice. She couldn't very well waltz into ShinRa Incorporated without a plan in mind otherwise nothing would be accomplished.

If only the brothers hadn't decided to desert her at the last moment.

Ungrateful little snots!

After she had rescued them from Hojo's lab and gave them a place to live and food to eat, they had turned their backs on her the moment they started hearing voices. She had gotten a vague shiver of 'Cloud' when they had said that and was almost glad to see them go, though it meant she was without henchmen.

Blast that girl! Why didn't she pick up the damn phone!

Not only that, she was stuck hiding out in middle of nowhere, sandwiched in a tiny decrepit room in Bone Village. The people there were pretty much useless, oblivious to anything that hadn't been dead for over a thousand years. She hadn't even been able to coax one of the younger ones into her bed.

What was he? Blind?

Sighing irritably yet again, the brunette stood up from the chair and began to pace, stopping for a moment only to glare at her useless phone. She couldn't move on with her plans unless she could reach her spy. Without her, even those damned bombs she had spent so much money and flirting on would be useless.

Tifa was determined to make Reeve and stupid AVALANCHE pay for what they had done. Her plan to kidnap Reno had backfired, but it wasn't her main plot to begin with. It was only a distraction to lure the idiots away from her true intentions. Now would be the perfect time to strike, if only she could reach that damn nitwit.

Was she out flirting again? Stupid hussy…

Rufus would be turning over in his grave – if she had been able to find his body and bury it – if he knew what that moron was doing to his company. Running it into the ground, practically giving the money away. He had even disbanded the damn army, leaving everything defenseless.

What was wrong with Reeve?

For the life of her, she couldn't fathom it. Everything that should have been hers that damn man was letting it waste away.

She had to stop him before it was too late.

Ever since her near death at Sephiroth's hands years prior, Tifa had been a different woman. She began to crave money and power, especially from Mr. ShinRa himself. Although she hated the corporation, she justified her actions by working to have it in her hands.

She moved to Midgar, clawed and fought her way into ShinRa's company, soon coming face to face with one Rufus ShinRa. She had always heard of the president's son, but she never knew he was so achingly handsome. She quickly fell under the spell of those ocean-colored eyes. His self-confidence was something that attracted her immediately.

He of course knew her on sight; he knew that she had past relations to AVALANCHE, probably a result of all the information gathered by the Turks. He gave her one of his trademark smirks, instantly making her desire him, and their torrential relationship began. In the beginning, he was only using her to get closer to the terrorist company. That only suited her purpose just fine because she was using him as well. There was no such thing as love between them, just fire and passion in harsh degrees.

The sex wasn't too bad either. Rufus' domineering personality and intensity was far more alluring than Cloud with his boyish immaturity could ever evoke in her. Just thinking of the way he made her feel made her somewhat nostalgic. She would miss that cold bastard.

Tifa blamed Rufus' death entirely on AVALANCHE. She felt they caused Diamond Weapon to attack Midgar, killing her lover in the process. If only they had been the ones to defeat Sephiroth rather than Cloud and his merry band of idiots, perhaps then she wouldn't be skulking about in Bone Village with a broken phone and no henchmen.

Tifa scowled as she considered blowing up the rotten excuse for a town once she regained control of ShinRa. Wutai, as well, both places deserved to be destroyed for not having decent places for her to plot and ponder.

There was a timid half-hearted knock on her hotel room door. Tifa didn't bother to open the door, knowing that it did not lock.

Damn primitive backwater town.

"Enter," she growled loudly almost in the same moment that the door clicked open. A small mousy-haired female came in carrying a tray of steaming food. She wore the same horrendous bag-like brown that everyone else on this godforsaken site seemed to enjoy, and Tifa scowled at the eyesore.

Despite her irritation, she could feel her mouth watering at the pleasant aroma of the food. She had ordered something from the small restaurant associated with the hotel and paid good money to have it brought to her room. She only hoped that the fare would suit her taste buds.

"Set it down on the table," she ordered easily, eyes narrowing as the girl shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and placed the tray down, lacking any sort of grace. The plates and cup knocked together with a sound that grated on Tifa's nerves. She gritted her teeth and tried not to shake the girl senseless.

The girl grinned at the brunette, brown eyes sparkling before pranced out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

How irritating.

Once the annoying twit was gone, and she was alone with her thoughts, Tifa turned her attention to the meal she had been brought. She stalked over to the table and sat down in the rickety chair, wincing as it creaked and groaned. Eyeing the food, she huffed in disdain.

It was not at all up to the standards of her usual fare, not like she had eaten with Rufus' money, but it would suffice. Tifa began to eat, internally seething over her delay in plans.

It had taken her time to get everything in place, the brothers more of an added bonus than a big part of her ShinRa reclamation plan. They were good for hired muscle, especially the eldest – he was rather dumb. But they were too young for much else.

A pity, really. But even she had her moral standards.

She couldn't resist the urge to cackle evilly out loud, and so she did, not caring if anyone outside could hear her through the practically paper thin walls. Once she was able to reach her contact in Midgar, she would set the ball rolling so to speak. Within days, ShinRa would be hers and out of the hands of that good-all Reeve Tuesti and his stupid ponce of a lover. And to think that the red-headed bastard had refused her.

Just as she was thoroughly enjoying her meal, the familiar strains of her ring tone wafted through the air, albeit a bit off key, probably a result of its flight through the air and subsequent crash into the wall. Her reddish-brown eyes widened in surprise before she was diving for her phone, nearly crashing headlong into a small nightstand in the process.

Tifa vaulted over the bed and snatched the off-key electronic device from the floor before quickly answering it.

"Hello?"

"Boss!" came her associate's cheerful voice. The one that she had been trying to reach this entire time, which had set off her anger… "You've been trying to call me? Is it time?"

"Shut up!" snapped Tifa angrily. "Are you alone? Somewhere you can't be heard?"

Her associate laughed at the question as if it were a great joke, thereby grating on her nerves even further. Tifa had to remind herself that she was only a brainless nitwit and was therefore disposable.

"Of course I am. I'm not stupid, boss."

"Good. It's time to put my plan into motion. Prepare for my arrival. I have all supplies ready."

There was a light cheering on the other end of the phone. She could practically hear the girl's ecstatic grin. "Thank the gods! I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up this façade!"

Tifa smirked. "Once I'm in charge, you will receive a hefty bonus." Or a swift kick in the ass, whichever suited her mood at the time.

Her associate cackled with glee. "I live to serve," she intoned. "All will be prepared when you arrive. The fool is still gone. Goodbye, boss."

The phone call ended on that note with nothing further needing to be said. They had to be careful in that respect, keeping all contact to a minimum and not using any names or such things.

Feeling very pleased with herself, Tifa hung up the phone on her end, a canary-eating grin on her face. She couldn't resist rubbing her hands together in excitement and so did.

Soon… very, very soon it would all be hers.

It would satisfy her much to see Reeve crushed beneath her boot and all the rest of AVALANCHE pleading for mercy.

Mwa, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Come to think of it, she really needed to come up with a better laugh… something better suited to the future and first lady President of ShinRa.

Tifa's a bit off her rocker, isn't she?

(1) I'm going by FF7: Last Order if description of the events at Nibelheim are confusing you. If you haven't seen it, then that may be why. Anyways, it seems no one really knows what happened that night, especially not the people at Square.


	34. Attack of the Sahuagin

----- meanwhile

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Thought'

**Chapter 34: Attack of the Sahuagin**

Grey eyes fluttered open, almost forcing themselves shut at the invasion of bright sunlight. The ex-Turk glanced around the room, finding that a warm weight was still settled on his right side, making his arm nearly numb and that he was really feeling the need for a shower. He was both sticky and sweaty from both of their previous excursions.

Vincent grimaced only slightly as he struggled to extricate himself from the tangle of sheets and Cid. They had fallen asleep after their early morning round of sex and arguing, but it seemed only for a short time. He risked a glance at the clock, only an hour or so had passed.

The pilot grunted as he moved, waking up almost immediately. This time his eyes were clear rather than sleep confused as they settled on the ex-Turk that was trying to rise from the bed.

"What time is it?"

The gunman stretched mildly as he rose from the bed, pulling off his jeans from the floor and slipping into them, foregoing underwear for the time being. He zipped them up, not bothering with the button as he planned on diving into a shower as soon as possible.

"Still relatively early for you," he answered as he moved to the window, pulling back the curtains a little so he could look out.

The pilot turned over and peered at the clock, groaning slightly at the time. "That wouldn't stop Mr. President from calling me for a pick up. Thinks I'm a damn one-man transport service," he complained, but his tone was affectionate. He just liked to grumble for the sake of complaining.

It was pretty outside, another beautiful May day on Gaia. He could see nothing outside the window except grassy plains and a fence that had once housed the Tiny Bronco. He idly wondered what had happened to the plane turned boat after the Meteor incident as his mind registered what the pilot had said.

"Rufus?" he questioned as Cid had referred to Mr. President.

The blond sat up in the bed, scratching his head as he peered around the room for his clothing, finally spotting a pair of jeans thrown over the end post of the bed.

"Nah, that fucker's dead," responded Cid. "Reeve's head man now with Archer helping him." He paused before adding in a much lowered voice, "And getting on my damn nerves as well," he muttered.

The pilot snagged his jeans, throwing them on before collapsing backwards onto the bed, seriously contemplating going back to sleep but not sure if he was willing to let the gunman out of his sight for even a minute. He was beginning to wonder if he could convince the early riser to return to sleep with him.

"Archer?" questioned the ex-Turk, half-turning from the window to raise an eyebrow at the pilot. "Who's Archer?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth then did a shadow pass over the window. Frowning, Vincent returned his attentions to the window, only to have his eyes widen in surprise as a figure leapt through the aperture, shattering the glass and slamming into him. He was knocked backwards into the far wall as the stench of rotten fish filled his senses.

Cid's eyes widened in surprise and a small bit of fear as the creature slammed his lover into a wall. He automatically reached for the spear that should have been at his bed side but wasn't because he hadn't slept in his room last night. He cursed his misfortune as another two of the strange monsters leapt in the window, eyes locked solely on Vincent.

The monsters were covered in green and yellow scales, most of them knobbed and coated in little spikes. They were huge, nearly twice the ex-Turk's size, and had the form of a lizard, though intelligence to a certain extent was somewhere behind those eyes. They walked on two feet and wore light silver armor over their weak areas.

The lizard creature, which had slammed Vincent into the wall, hissed angrily and reared back a sharply clawed hand, intent on ending his life. At the last moment, the ex-Turk twisted away and dove for the Hell Fire, hanging from his holster in a nearby chair. He gritted his teeth against the fiery pain that raced through his back. Four long claw marks began to bleed freely.

His fingers just managed to wrap around the grip of the shotgun when a taloned hand wrapped around his leg and pulled. He twisted over on his back, ignoring the searing pain as he did so, and quickly fired the Hell Fire at the lizard creature that was trying to make a leap for his head. He was pulled across the floor, leaving a bloody smear behind him as he did so. The ex-Turk growled and struggled to free his foot, kicking violently at his assailant.

"Cid! Get out of here!" yelled the gunman, cocking the shotgun and firing at the lizard so that it would release his foot. "They're only after me!"

Ice crackled through the air, slowing down the third lizard, which hadn't yet attacked. Vincent struggled to his feet, having trouble keeping all three monsters in his sight. He nimbly dodged a tail whip attack and fired back, missing when the creature moved so quickly in a short amount of space that he hardly saw it.

He did not see when one tried to creep up on him from behind, not until the pilot let out a battle yell and dove at it, knocking both man and beast into the dresser with a crash. The mirror shattered, scattering glass everywhere.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" growled Cid rhetorically as he attempted to pummel the knobby beast. His knuckles were nearly bloody with the effort as the creatures scales were practically hard as rock. "I'm not leaving ya to fight them alone!"

The pilot cried out in sudden pain as an errant claw caught him across the arm, slicing into his forearm leaving three jagged marks that bled freely.

"Stubborn bastard!" hissed the ex-Turk in response. His hand came out, throwing an Ice spell at the lizard that was wrestling with the pilot. He cocked the Hell Fire and fired again, driving back another advancing creature before darting forward and grabbing the pilot, pulling him away from his enemy.

The two men stumbled towards the door, the three creatures eyeing them with bloodlust. Vincent grabbed a hold of the pilot's shoulder and shoved him towards the door, idly throwing out another Ice spell as he did so. It succeeded in slowing down the lizards, even if it didn't stop them. He could feel himself tiring, however, using too many spells in a short span of time not really something he was used to doing.

"Go get your spear!" the gunman ordered, giving him another hearty shove.

The pilot shook his head stubbornly, standing his ground. "I already told ya once, Vince, you're not leaving on your own again."

Vincent opened his mouth to reply when he was distracted by the angry snarl of the lizard monster. They were preparing to snap. He made a quick decision, knowing the stubbornness of his lover. In a movement borne of near desperation, he shoved the pilot out the door, pulling it shut behind him and throwing the lock. The blond immediately started pounding on the door, which Vincent ignored as he grimly took stock of the situation.

As the three creatures glared at him hungrily, one making a bold move forward, which Vincent promptly shot and persuaded otherwise. The ex-Turk knew he had to get them away from the house. He didn't want it to get destroyed or accidentally harm the pregnant Shera. The last thing he wanted was for another innocent life to get ruined in the protection of his.

His eyes darted over to the now completely ruined window, knowing that beyond the back yard of the two-story home was open field. He would have to contend with the lesser beasts out there as well but figured they would see the monstrous and powerful creatures chasing him and would stay well away. Also, he would have to make sure he didn't cut himself further on the jagged glass.

Grimacing at his lack of clothing with no time to pull on anything further, Vincent made a dive for the window. He jumped on the bed and scurried across it. As he did so he cast one of his last reserves in the form of another Ice spell and shot the Hell Fire, the gun fiercely recoiling in his grasp.

Bullet and icicle struck in the same moment, clearing him a path. He dove for the window, twisting his body around as he fell so that he could fire the shotgun at another of the creatures, hopefully slowing them down.

He artfully maneuvered his body so that he landed on his feet, the soles slightly stinging as one unshod foot stubbed into a rock. He bit back the grimace and struggled to gain his footing as he took off running, heading for the vast emptiness of the green plains.

His back throbbed angrily with the effort as he could feel the wetness from the blood dripping down and into his pants. Oh well, he would have to buy another pair.

Vincent heard growling and risked a glance over his shoulder as he saw the three creatures leap out of the Alexander house and follow after him, choosing to run on all fours rather than bipedal. The ex-Turk swore and sped up his pace as well he could, finding it difficult to maintain purchase with no shoes.

"Goddamit, Erebus!" cursed the gunman. "Where the hell are you when I need you?"

---

Cid gave up on banging on the door when the room beyond suddenly fell silent… a quiet that instantly made him worry. He heard the sound of a gunshot outside the house and knew that Vincent was no longer in the room. He didn't even want to contemplate what the gunman had done from a two-story window to get outside. Growling angrily more at himself than anyone else, he darted from the locked door into his room, grabbing up his spear as quickly as he could.

He dashed into the hallway, intent on heading for the stairs when he ran into the nearby brick wall-like thing that went by the name of Rude Alexander. The dark-skinned man looked down at him from his superior height, a question on his face. For the moment, Cid was surprised by Rude's very lack of sunglasses. He could plainly see deep brown eyes that were actually quite attractive.

"What the hell is going on?" an obviously feminine voice questioned from behind the very tall former Turk. Cid peered around Rude, seeing Shera standing there looking very angry. He supposed she had every right to be. The fighting probably woke her up.

Cid shook his head, moving quickly passed the happily every married couple. "No time for talkin'!" he muttered, making for the stairs. "Vince's in trouble."

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him despite his rapid pace and knew that they were following. "I'll come with you," Rude explained, his deep voice nearly reverberating in the small alcove that housed the stairs.

The pilot nodded in answer, automatically reaching for cigarettes, which he did not have, and cursing violently when he realized he did not. He tightened his grip on his spear before vaulting off the bottom step and heading for the front door, Rude on his heels. Shera was also following, albeit at a much slower and labored pace. She wouldn't be fighting, however.

At the main door however, Rude paused, frowning as he shook his head. Hearing a lack of heavy footsteps, Cid turned and regarded the former Turk with a questioning raise of his brow.

"What?"

(It is time you caused me by my true name, snow child,) came a voice that had become quite familiar to the bald man. He hadn't really been ignoring it, more or less trying to understand before he came out and spoke anything aloud to anyone else.

The voice had always identified herself as Shiva and claimed that he needed to understand her, to learn her true nature so that he might know her and his real power. It wasn't something that made much sense to him, but he wasn't about to wander around and ask questions about the voice in his mind. The last thing he needed was for some crazed scientist to get their hands on him. No fucking way.

'True name' he questioned internally. 'What is there but what I know?'

He swore that a breath of cold air flashed across his mind as his skin goosebumped. The voice was trying to tell him something without being able to give it up verbally, but what he couldn't figure. He looked up to find Cid regarding him with a confused expression and then remembered that the pilot had asked him what was wrong.

"A cold chill raced up my spine," he explained quickly, then shook his head. "Never mind, let us just go." He accentuated his point by gesturing towards the door. He didn't want Shera to worry either.

The pilot looked at him strangely before nodding in answer and moving past him for the doorway, skin of his bared arm brushing across the taller man's for the briefest of instants. He let out a startled cry and looked at Rude in wonderment.

"Your skin is like ice!" the blond man exclaimed.

Rude made for the door, quickly grabbing his fighting gloves from the box near the doorway and a few globes of materia he kept on hand. "That is not important right now."

He cast a look over his shoulder towards his wife. She merely nodded in acknowledgement, absentmindedly rubbing her belly as she mouthed, 'I love you'. He returned the gesture, deep meaning behind his eyes, now sufficiently covered by his restored sunglasses.

"Right," agreed the pilot. "Vince needs us."

---

Gasping for breath, Vincent kept up the pace, his feet pounding across the ground almost painfully. He had enough in him for one last cast… perhaps enough bullets to fire maybe three more times. But after that, he would have to use teeth and nail if he wanted to live.

He was strongly annoyed with his anima for disappearing at such a crucial time. The annoying demi-god had picked the worst moment to suddenly decide to be absent.

Vincent heard a snarl and dodged almost instinctively, ducking his head to avoid a claw slash from one of the creatures. They were right on his tail now, significantly faster than he and his lagging strength. It was only his nimble feet and random pattern that was keeping him from being a pile of mangled flesh.

Vincent threw out his last Ice reserve, managing to slow down one of the three and causing it to be left behind. He would use that to his advantage and found somewhere within him a bit of strength, urging himself into a burst of speed.

That is until one of the monsters decided to try and take a flying leap at him. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and waited until the last moment before he dove to the ground and rolled out of the way.

The creature, which he still had yet to identify, sailed ridiculously over the spot where he once was, quickly regaining its balance as it pivoted nicely and landing on its feet. Its claws dug into the dirt as it righted its direction and kept up the chase. Vincent had already rolled onto his feet, wincing as dirt and grass got into the wounds on his back, and pushed himself back into his running position.

He brought up the gun that was quickly becoming heavier and heavier in his grasp. It had been awhile since he had been forced to run for his life, and he had gotten sorely out of shape. Not that his body was really built for long distance running or stamina. He was a long range fighter, gun and all; the last thing he needed was endurance. Agility and intelligence was more his forte rather than strength.

For only the barest hint of a moment, he missed the strength and power afforded to him by the cursed demons. But that thought was ground down as quickly as it came. He would rather die than face their inclusion into his body once more.

One of the creatures darted in front of him, distracting him from his internal musings. He quickly sidestepped, changing his flight plan. The monster was not perturbed, performing another of its quick jumps in space so that it was running nearly beside him. It swung out with sharp claws, forcing Vincent to fire one of his remaining bullets to maintain distance.

The fiery shot grazed off the monsters bony shoulder and skittered away, his aim hampered by erratic movements and the creature's agility, which was not unlike his own. The monster seemed unfazed by the attack and snarled angrily, yellowish eyes snapping with ire.

Vincent had a sick feeling in his stomach… that unless he got some help and soon, Balaam might be getting his powers back rather quickly. He absolutely hated to ask for help but knew now was not the time to be full of pride.

He brought up the Hell Fire, preparing to fire one more of the bullets as he half-turned, changing his direction for what had to be the thousandth time. He cast a look over his shoulder, instantly marking where all the creatures were. The one he had frozen was loping madly up the plains, quickly catching up. He was flanked on either side by the remaining two. Eventually, he would run out of strength.

The gunman returned his attentions to the path in front of him, eyes widening seconds before he ran into a black cloaked shape, nearly barreling it over in the process. He knew on sight who the mysterious figure was and fought to keep his feet even as he nearly lost his grip on the Hell Fire.

"You called?" The demi-god smirked, his voice instantly familiar. It was Erebus. The damned anima decided to show up at the most convenient for him moment. His hand came out, and he steadied his animus even as the other called his superbly sharp scythe into being.

"Bastard!" growled the ex-Turk angrily, wincing as every muscle protested the sudden stop in moving, and his back screamed in agony. He was healing far slower than before the battle with Sephiroth but still faster than most humans. He had a vague feeling it had something to do with the loss of the demons but was still certain their absence was a good thing.

"Where the hell have you been?" the gunman demanded, eyeing his anima critically. He was nearly heaving for breath as every muscle in his body screamed for him to lie down and not move again for perhaps another thirty years if he was lucky. His feet were crying out the same thing.

The demi-god chuckled aloud, swinging his scythe in a wide arc to ward off the three creatures that were now circling them, eyeing with murderous intent. They didn't know this new foe, however, and were taking their time in attacking. Stupid creatures they were not.

"You've been around your pilot too long already," teased the demi-god before he grasped his cloak and swirled it around them, casting one of his more powerful magic spells as he did so.

Darkness fell around the brightly lit plains, obscuring the vision of the lizard creatures and making it difficult for them to attack. They growled in anger, and Vincent could hear them padding about restlessly, trying to discern where to find their prey.

"Gods! Your back looks to be in shreds!" exclaimed the demi-god, finally noticing the tired and haggard state of his animus as Vincent swayed on his feet, struggling to remain standing.

The ex-Turk shook his head. "Too much blood," he gasped out before grabbing his head with his one free hand, the scarred left.

Before Erebus could respond, however, another male voice distracted both men, causing them to look up in surprise.

"Ishvara! Turn them to dust!" the deeply masculine voice ordered. Vincent gaped as Rude and Cid ran up to them, unaffected by the darkness and the creatures clear in their sight.

However, he was even more surprised by what happened next.

The sky darkened, a different effect than what Erebus had cast. A patch of ice began to appear on the plains, spreading out from a central source and coating the green grass in a bluish, thick batch of frozen water. Suddenly, several large shards of ice burst from the center, growing tall and majestic, sparkling in air.

Within the clear ice was a woman, as beautiful as she was mysterious. She had long intricately woven blue-black hair and wore little save a few scraps of strategically placed frost. Jewelry bedecked her hands and ankles, as well as her hair and elf-like ears. Angular features were highlighted by what might have been makeup, but it was impossible to tell.

Simply put, she was beautiful, elegant. Not only that, she appeared to be sleeping.

But only for a moment.

Her eyes snapped open, a brilliant and glowing blue. The ice shattered around her, shards going in all directions but melting before they did any damage. She brought up her arms in an arcane gesture, the temperature instantly dropping below freezing around her as she turned to face the three lizard creatures, a small but delicate frown forming on her angelic face.

She held out a hand, aiming the palm towards one monster. A ball of energy began to form over her palm, coalescing rather quickly given the situation. Seconds later it formed a freezing wind, blowing fiercely on the unfortunate beast. The lizard was almost instantly encased in an enormous block of gathered ice.

A smirk crossed the lovely lady's face seconds before she half-turned from the creature, elegantly snapping her fingers in a careless motion. Instantaneously, the glacier surrounding the lizard shattered into countless pieces, freezing it in place and slicing easily through the knobbed scales. The monster screeched in pain, forced to its hands and knees as its blood ran freely and its limbs fell from its trunk.

She twisted her wrist once more as a shard of ice came flying from seemingly nowhere, imbedding itself in the weakened monster's chest. It collapsed to the ground, flopping weakly before giving in to the call of death. Slowly, the body began to dissolve as enemy and friend alike gaped in astonishment.

Vincent glanced at his anima. "She is even more dramatic than you are, not mention easier on the eyes," murmured the ex-Turk almost teasingly as he turned surprised eyes towards the demi-god. Vincent pain momentarily forgotten, he gritted his teeth as another wave of agony passed through him, but he hid it carefully so his anima wouldn't notice.

Erebus raised an eyebrow in irritation before stalking towards one of the two remaining creatures, both already trembling in fear. While the elegant blue-haired beauty disposed of the second monster in an almost absurdly easy and playful manner, Erebus made certain to kill the third in a spectacular way.

He waved his hands in an arcane gesture, binding the creature with chains popped up from the earth and restraining it. The metal links began to bind around the monster, slowly tightening inwards as its bones broke one by one. It was an agonizingly painful way for something to die, but it was deserved giving the painful slash marks on the ex-Turk's back.

Vincent shook his head at his anima's theatrics, nearly fainting with the dizziness caused by that action. His knees buckled beneath him, and they threatened to collapse. He would have met the ground personally had Cid not appeared at his side, grabbing him before he could fall.

The blond was appalled by the sheer look of haggardness and exhaustion in his lover's face and the jagged marks along his back. Vincent would have more scars to add to his already unfortunate collection.

He was more surprised, however, by the fact that they weren't closing up at a faster rate. He knew how quickly the ex-Turk should have been healing, and it wasn't even coming close. He dared a look down the way they had ran, knowing what he would find but dreading it. Sure enough, there was a slight blood trail, coming entirely from the back of the gunman in his arms. It made his stomach churn with unfortunate thoughts.

"Why the hell aren't ya healin' faster?" questioned the pilot as he pulled the ex-Turk into his arms and held him close. "I don't have a cure on me. Only offensive stuff…"

A shadow fell over the duo moments before the skull-like face of Erebus appeared. Apparently, the monsters had been sufficiently taken care of. The sound of footsteps alerted the pilot to the approach of Rude and the blue-haired angel as well.

"Here," said Erebus, grabbing the bottom of his already tattered cloak in his hand and ripping it easily. He handed the scrap to the pilot. "Use this until we can get him back to the house."

"I can slow down the bleeding but not heal him," added in the ice queen, looking down on the dark-haired man with something akin to pity. "It is not one of my gifts," she finished softly, her voice as enchanting as the rest of her.

The blond nearly gaped at the two demi-deities, still surprised by their very appearances. "Who? What… the fuck are you?" he questioned as he took the scrap of cloth from the demi-god.

"Erebus," answered Vincent in a somewhat weak voice. He half-angled his body so that he could look his lover in the eye. "My anima…"

Cid furrowed his brow in confusion as he struggled to bind the wounds that were nearly the entire length of the ex-Turk's back. He sighed aloud. "First Yuffie and Nanaki… now you and Rude." He eyed the two demi-deities. "You're Shiva, I get that. But you?"

The blue-haired demi-goddess laughed aloud. "Ishvara is my real name, pilot. And, yes, Rude is my animus. I have only just now gotten to speak to him." She put a hand to her forehead as she considered. "In fact, I do believe he is the one to have my summon materia."

As she spoke, she moved towards the ex-Turk who was leaning heavily on his lover, one hand wrapped around the pilot's waist. She moved around to his back, lightly fanning her fingers over the wind, causing a light brush of cold air to ghost across his skin. A small layer of ice coated the wound, sealing it for a short amount of time.

The dark-cloaked demi-god shook his head as he eyed his anima with concern. The wounds were indeed healing quite slowly even with the mako still coursing through Vincent's veins. They needed to get him to a Restorative materia before they got infected and his blood subsequently poisoned.

"I am Hades or more precisely… Erebus," he explained.

Cid frowned, half in confusion, half in irritation. "What the fuck is going on?" he asked rhetorically, speaking of things in general.

Erebus waved a hand of dismissal. "Never mind that now. We have to get Vincent back to the house."

"I believe I have a mid-level Cure somewhere," added in Rude, speaking for the first time since the end of the battle.

The pilot nodded in response, ignored the dark-haired man's protestations and swept the taller man into his arms. He wasn't exactly a strong man but neither was Vincent exactly heavy, especially barely dressed.

"Goddammit Cid, I am not an invalid," hissed the gunman.

The pilot raised a brow as their eclectic group made their way the fair distance back towards the once Highwind now Alexander home. "Oh, I should put you back on your bleeding feet then?"

Vincent winced at the reminder of his throbbing feet. "Your arm is bleeding, too," he argued in return.

"It's only a flesh wound," countered the pilot. "Now shuddap and let me carry you."

The gunman considered opening his mouth and arguing in return but refrained from doing so. He was actually beginning to feel a little dizzy, and the pain in his back was reaching near astronomical proportions. As much of a stab to his pride as it was to be carried, he allowed the pilot to do so just that one time. However, that didn't stop him from shooting a poisonous glare to his anima, who was currently snickering at him in his predicament.

A short time later found the group of demi-deities and humans standing outside the Alexander home, Shera frowning at them in a look of both concern and disapproval. Her gaze softened, however, when she caught the injured ex-Turk lying within his lover's arms.

She immediately pushed open the front door wider, guiding the eclectic group inside. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of the demi-deities, many questions on her lips, but she put them aside in favor of waiting for a more proper time.

The beautiful blue-eyed woman was what shocked her most, especially the barely-there clothing that she wore, and who in the world had true ice-tinged skin?

Shera had the feeling that things were about to get even stranger than she had anticipated.

Everyone was ushered into the living room, where Vincent was deposited gently on the couch as everyone else settled themselves in other locations. Shera bustled off to make some tea as Rude disappeared in search of the mid-level Cure he was certain he kept somewhere on hand.

"What were those damn things?" questioned Cid, eyeing the demi-deities as they made themselves at home in the living room that had once belonged to him. He was tempted to reach for a cigarette; he knew he had a pack in his jeans pocket, but at a glance from the gunman that idea was squashed.

Feh, he was whipped already.

"The Sahuagin," Shiva answered, her voice light and airy, much like the winter wind, though it had a soft ringing quality to it as well. Her blue eyes took in everything around her as she made herself comfortable on a high-backed chair.

Erebus was standing beside the unlit fireplace, his face furrowed in contemplation. "It's hard to explain what exactly the Sahuagin are, as they are neither monster nor demi-god nor animal. They just… _are_ if that makes any sense."

"Not a damned bit," muttered the pilot as he sat down on the edge of the couch, where Vincent was lying on his stomach, trying not to move. The wounds looked absolutely horrible, nearly linear with the scars from Chaos' wings and stretching almost the entire length of his back.

The ex-Turk shook his head. "Never mind what they were. Are there more?"

Erebus frowned. "I don't believe so, but I can't be positive. Their origins are somewhat… unknown."

"What great help you all are." The pilot snorted sarcastically. He was starting to get testy… lack of nicotine could do that to a man.

It was then that Shera came into the room, carrying a few empty tea cups and a tea pot. She shot the blond man a look as she set the tray down on the table. "Have you lost your damn mind?" she snapped. "Quit being rude."

Erebus had to cover his face, trying to rein in his laughter as Cid turned red, glaring angrily at a woman he now considered like his sister. Even the ex-Turk had to hide the slight smile that was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The sound of a continuously ringing phone disturbed their laughter as Rude appeared in the living room, Cure materia and bandages in one hand and a PHS in the other.

"I had to break down the door," he explained shortly, depositing the annoying object into the blond's hands. "But answer that damned thing." With that said, he turned his attentions to casting the Cure spell on the prone Vincent, while Cid pressed the button to activate the phone.

"Highwind," he answered crisply, glaring at everyone in the room as they had been having fun at his expense.

"Cid," came Reeve's easily recognized voice. "Busy?"

The pilot sighed, running an irritated hand through his now somewhat spiky locks. "Somewhat."

"If it's nothing important, we need to get to Midgar. Everyone does, I mean. Call Nanaki and Yuffie and pick them up. We all need to get together again. We've been ignoring what's been going on in Gaia for far too long. We might be the only ones who can do anything about the war that's soon going to break out."

Cid exchanged glances with Vincent, who was struggling to sit up as he aided Rude in wrapping the bandages around his chest and back. The cure materia helped to seal the wounds, but it would be better to wrap them until he could heal fully, lest they break open again. The gunman nodded in response to Cid's unasked question, having heard Reeve's request and agreeing heartily.

"Alright, Reeve. We'll be there in a few hours. Highwind, out." Without waiting for a response and knowing the President didn't expect one, he ended the call.

"Well, folks, there's no way around it," he explained, eyeing everyone gathered in the living room. "Time to save the world." (1)

----

1 Anyone know where I got this from?

Review Please!


	35. Old Flame

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Thought'

A somewhat short chapter but entertaining nonetheless. Finally! Archer gets a chance to speak!

Thanks for my reviews! I really enjoy them!

**Chapter 33: Old Flame**

Archer leaned against the railing and resisted the urge to sigh. He was really a happy person, and there was no need for such morose thoughts… but that didn't mean he could stop them from coming. No more than he could stop the odd feelings that had been rising up within him lately. He, of course, knew what had brought on the sudden bout of melancholy.

He felt the complete odd man out.

As he idly eyed the swiftly passing scenery below, thousands of miles above the surface of Gaia in the airship Highwind, his thoughts returned to what had occurred only minutes before, his previous escape. Cid had picked up Reeve, Reno, and himself not but twenty minutes ago off the plains of Wutai. The residents had been sad to see their hero, Reno, go but understood the situation. The red-haired Turk preened under their attention, and it only did more to inflate his already ballooned ego.

Reeve and Reno had a happy reunion, getting over their little argument and finally acting like the sweet and loving couple they were. Archer knew this for a fact, returning from the party a little early and getting an eyeful from out on the veranda. He tried not to stare for too long before quietly turning away and heading to his own room.

To his empty bed… by himself… again.

He resisted another sigh as well as he could, only letting out a small puff of indignation.

Where was he… oh right, recalling all the way back to a few minutes ago…

It was on their ascension into the airship, and subsequent piling into the bridge, that the three of them learned that Vincent Valentine was alive and well, standing by the side of the pilot that had searched so endlessly for him. He looked different than they remembered, but everyone knew him on sight.

It was a joyous occasion to be sure. A small reunion of sorts was occurring at this very moment between the friends, Nanaki and Yuffie included who had been picked up earlier in the day. It had been a surprise for Archer to see that the young man had reverted back to his lion wolf form. Both he and the ninja had been reluctant to talk about it, so Archer didn't press.

The friends seemed very distracted, however, as if something had occurred between them. They still acted as friends, but there was an undercurrent of tension that hadn't yet been acknowledged. Archer couldn't even begin to speculate.

After a few minutes standing in the back of the bridge and watching, he had decided his presence was no longer necessary. No one was speaking to him anyways. He didn't really know the ex-Turk at all, nor did Vincent know him, so it wasn't as if he would be missed. He had slipped out unnoticed, barely acknowledging the sound of the door hitting him on the way out. After his quiet exit, he headed straight for the deck, wanting not only solitude but the peace that was offered by the always lovely view.

He wasn't much of a brooder, really one of those given to happy exteriors. He didn't feel there was much of a need for wasting time with regrets and sadness when there was not a lot of time in the world to live. He preferred to be happy while he could, sadness not much of a factor. However, Archer figured every man was entitled to moments of self-pity and now was the perfect opportunity. He had the excuses, and now was the time to enact them.

So there he stood on the deck of the Highwind, feeling incredibly sorry for himself and bemoaning his lack of a significant other. He had managed to draw his normally happy face into something resembling dark feelings and even procured a dissatisfied slouch as he leaned against the railing. To those observing, rude as that may be, he would appear the perfect picture of 'go the hell away and leave me alone'. Or something to that effect.

Beside him, a feminine voice chuckled, trying to rouse him from his thoughts of self-pity. He, of course, recognized her in an instant, quite familiar with the voice now that it had made a seemingly permanent home in his head recently. Not that he wasn't happy to have a constant companion as powerful as the Myst Dragon, Tiamat, but she did have the habit of making comments on his personal thoughts when he would have rather kept them… well, private.

"A morose face such as this does not suit you. Look how hard you are trying," the dragon teased, suddenly appearing beside him. He should have known to expect that she would decide when and where to return, randomly popping in and out of existence. How he wished he had such powers; it would make his life that much more fun.

Archer frowned, attempting to give his anima a sour look and failing miserably. He was trying to keep up his brooding façade. "I can be depressed and sullen if I like," he responded with a haughty sniff. It was not very believable. "Besides, you have no room to speak, Mrs. Bahamut."

Ah, therein lay the source of his forced melancholy. After all, if there was any man who had a right to bemoan his lack of companionship it was he, especially surrounded by as many happy couples as he had taken to lately. It had been a good while since he had last had a serious relationship, not that his sex life had suffered – just his… what would he say… commitment life? He wasn't even sure if that made much sense.

Nevertheless, the cause of his sorrows – he was incredibly lonely. Sure he had friends – and lots of them, more especially since he had aligned himself with Reeve and company. Yet, it seemed everyone around him was getting married or making lifelong commitments.

And if he wasn't helping them get over their silly little arguments with their significant others or finding their missing lovers, then he was feeling like the damned third wheel – well, more like the seventh wheel currently. He hated it because it left him having nearly no fun at all.

Now, he was happy for them… but also explicably and insanely jealous. He wished them all the best – perfect happiness, great sex, and many orgasms for the rest of their lives – because truly, life was too short. However, the old green-eyed monster had built up a strong residence in him.

Not especially of Reeve, however, Reno was more of a handful than he would have liked. However, Vincent – ah the missing ex-Turk miraculously returned to life – he envied that man deeply.

Valentine had the devotion of one blond pilot that Archer would never forgive himself for letting get away. He wondered how it felt to be loved like that, to be so entirely cared for that death would be a better option than living without… because that was how Cid felt. He certainly had no experience with it. It was painful to watch a man he had once loved, and still cared for, fall apart because of one missing ex-Turk.

And by the gods! He could see where much of the devotion stemmed from, not that Cid was shallow or anything, but Vincent Valentine was a beautiful man. Archer was not the type who normally went around calling men beautiful, preferring handsome or some other such word, but he had to face the facts in the case of Valentine. And to think! Before he disappeared, he was even more exotic looking than now. Crimson eyes? Who in life really had crimson eyes?

There was no way that he, as he was, could compete with a man like Vincent Valentine, not that he had tried. It was the principal of the matter, and the man seemed completely oblivious of his attraction, making him all the more alluring. Perhaps that was what had attracted Cid… Archer really couldn't say.

However, his runaway thoughts were rudely interrupted by the interference of one powerful anima, so perhaps he wouldn't say she was being rude aloud and just keep his comments to himself – provided she hadn't decided to suddenly read his mind. The demi-goddess had a knack for doing that.

Tiamat shook her head as he turned to give her his full attention and grabbed his hand, holding it soothingly. In her most serious tone, belied by the fact that her eyes twinkled with amusement, she spoke.

"Seiryu is my husband, and you are my animus, the two men dearest to my heart."

Archer chose to scowl in response, knowing as a man who was brooding and therefore angry and/or sad at the world, it would be expected of him. The look, however, did not reach his eyes.

"You mock my pain."

The mist dragon laughed the sound like wind chimes in the distance. Small blocks of carefully crafted glass lightly rapping against each other in the wake of a summer storm… yes, he was at times poetic. It came with the territory. He had to have an artistic outlet other than his engineering designs. Not to mention the forced class in Icicilian. (1) He internally shuddered at the memory.

"You are not even sufficiently depressed, my dearest," she whispered softly. "Please believe me when I say, the king of broodiness resides on the Highwind on this very moment. If Erebus is to be believed, that is."

"Hmph," he replied in a haughty tone, for this was how Tiamat and he conversed. Archer was a tease and flirt, the mist dragon pretended to be all-knowing and dignified, but she still liked a good joke as well as any other. "Doesn't make me any less depressed."

Somehow he had the feeling that his attempts to lock himself away in broodiness were doomed to failure, but he was determined to keep trying. After all, he was lonely; he had every right to sit hours on end grumbling about his lack of a husband, wife, and significant other, whatever the hell he was interested in at the moment.

Tiamat, however, gave him a look of express disbelief as she raised an elegant brow. "You are honestly trying to tell me that you wish to stand out here, on this deck, in the heat and stare morosely into the distance, mournfully proclaiming your woes to the wind as you will forever be alone since no one understands you?"

The engineer couldn't help himself. His carefully crafted façade of surly depression cracked around her melting words. He laughed, loud and full, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You make me sound entirely ridiculous."

"That is because you are," replied the demi-goddess plaintively. She was teasing him, of course, but that was much of the fun in being an anima. The mortals were oftentimes amusing.

Archer sighed, attempting to school his expression back to something more dire and contemplative. He failed miserably. He leaned his elbows on the rail, bent down further and placed his chin in his hand, attempting the 'pity' look.

"I can't even brood properly. Here I am laughing when I should be… I don't know… what do broody people do, cry?"

Tiamat nodded sympathetically, trying to restrain the mirth that was bubbling up within her. Archer had not yet failed to make her laugh. He was intelligent and cheerful but not bubbly in a way that annoyed her, not like dear Asclepius could be at times.

"Unfortunately, we cannot all be world-class dark thought producers."

So he wasn't cut out for brooding, Archer already knew that. Sighing internally, lest his anima laugh at him again, he returned his gaze to the passing scenery. He was sorely tempted to break out into song… that 'Nobody Knows' song that all broody people seem to be fond of. Then again, his singing voice left much to be desired. It was probably best if he didn't.

If only he hadn't been such an expressive asshole in his younger years, he would have never lost Cid to begin with. Then he wouldn't be on the airship, standing on the deck, attempting to brood and failing with a sarcastic quick-witted dragon anima for company. Where had he gone wrong?

"Or perhaps you two just were not meant to be," suggested the female dragon softly.

Archer sniffed, frowning intently. "Since I am remarking on the unfairness of this very situation, why can't I read your mind?"

The lady smirked. "You could, if I allowed it, but I do not. You will just have to deal with it. Life is not fair, my dearest little dragon; that is simply the way the universe is."

Archer shrugged. "And here I was expecting a little sympathy. I suppose when you are a who-knows-how-old dragon such a thing no longer matters." He waited for the blustery response that he knew was to come anytime a man dared bring up a woman's age. Yet, there was none.

Surprised, he turned his head only to find that Tiamat had promptly disappeared. He furrowed his head in confusion.

(I will get you for that later, hatchling!) the mist dragon hissed within his mind. (Yet, for now, I will reside in here. You have a guest, dear.)

The engineer frowned, not having any idea what she was speaking about. However, his confusion was allayed when a voice wafted out from the area behind him. He didn't recognize the speaker and half-turned to see who it was, eyes automatically widening in surprise. Well, well, guest indeed.

"It appears that my personal brooding spot is no longer my own," Vincent Valentine commented, only half-jokingly. He had escaped from the somewhat clinging nature of his friends, still unused to the touchy-feeliness that they tended to invoke on him. He was glad that they were happy to see him, but by the gods, he needed to breathe!

The ex-Turk came further onto the deck, moving to a portion of the unoccupied railing and half-leaning upon it, staring out at the swiftly moving waters of the ocean below them.

'This is awkward,' the engineer commented to his anima as he somewhat nodded his head in response to the other dark-haired man's statement.

"It is a good place to escape," he replied, idly observing the gunman. He was dressed rather darkly, all black clothes except for the stone colored cloak. His hair was loose about his face, halfway obscuring his features, and he wore black leather gloves. There was a thigh holster on his right leg with a rather dangerous looking gun within it, and heavy black boots with thick silver buckles were on his feet. All in all, Vincent Valentine looked like a very dangerous man wrapped up in a pretty package.

(Only if you make it so,) the mist dragon countered. Archer chose to ignore her for the moment, instead focusing on what the ex-Turk was saying.

Vincent had inclined his head slightly in agreement, the wind pushing at the loose tendrils of dark hair that were around the frame of his face. Grey was swiftly becoming one of Archer's favorite colors… The ex-Turk half-turned to look at the amethyst-eyed man, something indistinguishable behind his eyes.

"You must be Kyle Archer, Reeve's associate and Cid's business partner, yes?"

The engineer found he rather liked the sound of Vincent's voice. It was deep, belying his somewhat bishounen appearance, and smooth as well, not at all rough like Cid's. Although, the pilot's had a ruggedness that was charming all on his own. He also spoke softly, not overly dramatic or boisterous, just loud enough to be heard and nothing else.

Archer chose to answer by nodding simply, rather than saying anything further. Really, what else was there to do but either affirm or deny his declaration? He shifted a bit uncomfortably under the speculative gaze, the awkward feelings again rising up in him. He wondered how in the world Vincent could look so calm and collected. These were the type of tense moments he chose to avoid.

The ex-Turk seemed to accept his answer, regarding him coolly for a moment with those stormy grey eyes before turning his attention back to the scenery. Silence fell between the two – a very uncomfortable silence – at least to Archer. Here he was, the ex-boyfriend, and there was Vincent, the new boyfriend, what on Gaia could they have to talk about?

Well, technically, a lot, but unless they wanted to discuss Cid Highwind, a man who sparked many a long conversation that they really did not need to get into, what did they have to say to each other?

Frowning inside, but showing nothing on the outside lest Vincent take offense, Archer scanned his mind for a good excuse to swiftly exit the deck and leave the man to his 'personal brooding spot'. He didn't care how _/he/ _looked, only that he wasn't interested in feeling awkward right when he was in the middle of a good –albeit forced – self-pity session.

(Wait,) interrupted Tiamat, making him forget all of the lame excuses his pathetic excuse for a mind had dribbled up. (He is trying to say something; he is just having trouble forming the words. That is his way. Please, be patient, little dragon.)

Archer huffed internally but obeyed the mist dragon. It wasn't that he didn't like Vincent; he just hated the discomfited and somewhat self-conscious feelings the man invoked in him. It didn't bother him that Cid was in love with another and that person just _/happened/_ to be standing directly in front of them. In fact, he wished them all the best, knowing that the pilot would be happy and that was all that mattered. He was friend first, ex-boyfriend second.

He supposed that the slight anger he felt towards Vincent _/might/ _have had something to do with his discomfiture. After all, the man had disappeared for six months, and going by all accounts of what had happened, had basically committed suicide without a word of goodbye or warning in order to save the world.

Which reminded him, just _/where/ _had the ex-Turk been for the last six months? Didn't he _/know/ _that Cid was killing himself trying to find him? Archer was sorely tempted to give the gunman a piece of his mind.

Except… Vincent chose that very moment to speak.

"I am told that I have you to thank," the ex-Turk spoke finally. He paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words or phrase. "That you… watched after Cid," he finished, frowning somewhat, as if he didn't quite like the way it came out.

Archer nodded, resisting the urge to gape at the dark-haired man. "He wasn't himself," the engineer explained, as if he really needed to do so. There were other things he could have said but hoped that was quite enough. He guessed that if Cid wanted Vincent to know about the drinking, not sleeping, and not eating – the pilot would tell him.

"Are we ever ourselves?" mused the dark-clothed man aloud, but Archer wasn't sure the comment was directed at him. He instead chose to observe the ex-Turk, watching as something he could not decipher flashed through those stone grey eyes. He closed them, shaking his head as if to clear morbid thoughts.

"Nevertheless, I thank you," finished the ex-Turk, half-turning as he stuck out a hand. Archer reached out and took it, shaking it slowly.

He was surprised that the gunman would have such a thing to say to him. He wondered if the man had come in search of him on purpose or had just stumbled upon him and took the opportunity to express his thanks. However, he had no time to speculate or say anything further because the door to the deck swung open loudly, banging against the wall of the airship behind it.

Both men winced openly as Yuffie, ninja extraordinaire came striding in, a beaming smile on her face. "There you are, Vinny! I should have known I'd find you hiding somewhere." Without further ado, she bounded in and launched herself at the ex-Turk, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely.

He immediately stiffened with the sudden affection, arms coming up to try and tug the clinging ninja off of him. "Yuffie! By the gods, let me go!" he gasped, struggling for breath. "My back!" He was of course, referring to the wounds from earlier that day, but the engineer did not know that. Still, Archer found it highly amusing and stepped back to watch.

"But I haven't seen you in ages!" whined the ninja girl. "And then you disappeared from the bridge. Cid's worried you know!" She explained, slowly extricating herself from his grasp. It was then that her keen eyes caught sight of the engineer, and Archer knew true fear.

He took a step backwards, but it was far too late.

"Archie!" exclaimed the brown-eyed girl, launching herself at him as well. To spread the love, of course. He nearly crashed against the railing with the force of her hug. "You disappeared, too!"

The amethyst-eyed man gasped for breath. "I needed some fresh air," he said as an excuse.

The engineer couldn't help but notice Vincent slowly and carefully backing away towards the exit, not wanting to draw untoward attention to himself. He still wasn't that keen on personal affection, and the last thing he wanted was for Yuffie to latch himself onto him again. His back was beginning to ache. Perhaps he would just go to Cid's room and convince the pilot to rub some healing salve or something into the still slightly stinging wounds.

He was to have no luck, however; Yuffie instantly spotted him trying to make his get away. She released the suffocating engineer and bounded over to Vincent, grabbing his arm excitedly. "Come back to the cockpit. We're still curious about where you've been."

An exasperated look came across the gunman's face. "Yuffie…" Yet, before he could get the words out, there was a small chuckle in the doorway of the deck. Both men and ninja looked up to see Nanaki sitting on his haunches in the aperture, shaking his head at the antics of the little woman.

"Yufs, leave poor Vincent alone," spoke the lion wolf before padding out onto the deck.

The ninja attempted to pout, looking up at her long lost friend hopefully. Archer was somewhat bemused by her actions. Vincent sighed, rubbing his forehead with his forefinger and thumb before his shoulders sagged. He had given in.

"Very well then, back to the cockpit," spoke the ex-Turk. A big smile broke out on the dark-haired woman's face as she led the gunman from the deck and back to the inside of the ship. Nanaki followed after them, shaking his head.

Archer breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his contemplations on the deck. The recent event was just… odd, at least to him. He leaned against the railing and watched the scenery fly by.

"See, my little one, it wasn't entirely awkward speaking to him," Tiamat said, deciding to reappear unannounced, just as she had left.

Archer huffed and rolled his shoulders. "Were you even watching? My gods, I don't see how he could look so cool when all I wanted to do was fidget restlessly."

Tiamat laughed. "He felt just as awkward as you, hatchling. He just knows how to have a straight face." She came up behind him, resting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "In fact, probably more so than you."

The engineer snorted disbelievingly. "Whatever."

----

(1) Icicilian – the old language of residents of Icicle. Same as Latin on Earth.

Please review!


	36. Girl meets Boy, Boy meets Gun

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! I really appreciate them!**

**(Voice in Head)**

'**Internal Thought'**

**Chapter 36: Girl Meets Boy. Boy Meets Gun **

He felt a strange sort of nostalgia as he looked up at the old, broken church. It was a place he knew well; a building he had visited often when he was just starting in ShinRa. It was also when he had first set eyes on Ms. Aeris Gainsborough. That had been one of his better relationships.

The sweet flower-girl was like a ray of sunshine in his life, and the two had quickly become the best of friends, even though their relationship never went much further than the innocent explorations of curious teenagers. She was a good influence on Sephiroth as well, the few times she had met him. Aeris was one of the few people he had seen able to coax a smile out of the General.

Yes, the church was a place of memories for Zack Loire, and he wondered if he would be able to find Aeris inside.

When Fenrir had first transported him to Midgar, he had been shocked by the sheer amount of destruction in the once glorious city. It took him hours to find a weapons shop. Then he wasted more time trying to earn the money to buy the cheapest damn sword available, finally settling on something similar to the Buster Sword that he wielded as a member of SOLDIER.

With the weapon securely in his grasp, he had started to search for Aeris or Cloud, wanting to see a familiar face. Asking around, he had been first directed to the flower shop. However, the employees there had informed him that Aeris was taking some personal days and had given him directions to the home that she and Cloud shared.

Apparently, the two were married. Zack couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face at that thought. His good friend Cloud was hooked up with his ex-girlfriend Aeris; it was too cute for words. He held no grudges, seeing the flower-girl as a good friend, and he hoped that they were treating each other right. Aeris would be good for his spiky-headed friend, or so Zack thought. He couldn't wait to see them, eager to begin the teasing.

Although when he got to their house, he found it empty, no one home. After a few minutes of irritated knocking, a neighbor had stepped out of her house to tell him that Aeris was probably at the church if not at the flower shop. The kindly old and portly woman then pointed him in the general direction of the building from where he stood so that he would be able to find it easily before disappearing back inside her home.

He thanked her and started to head towards the religious establishment, wondering why everyone in Midgar was suddenly so damn helpful. When he was looking for a weapons shop it was like trying to pull teeth, but everyone seemed to want to tell him where Aeris could be found. He hadn't understood it, nor had he wanted to waste the time pondering it either. He had realized, however, that no one seemed to know where Cloud was. In a way, it was somewhat amusing. Yet, after trekking back and forth across the broken slums of Midgar, he had started to lose his sense of humor.

Hours after his arrival in Midgar, Zack finally stood outside the church, looking at the building that apparently he had been for searching the entire time. He reveled in his nostalgia for a moment, allowing his characteristic grin to creep back up on his face as Fenrir suddenly appeared beside him, chuckling lightly.

"You know, you will never be able to find her if you do not go in," teased the lupine-like demi-god.

Blue eyes flickered over to his anima. The 'man' had changed his outfit with their location, to something more suitable. Blue jeans, black boots and a loose shirt. He still didn't appear much like a demi-god, however.

Zack grinned wolfishly, unfazed by the good natured teasing. "I've been dead for two years. I'm allowed this moment."

"For twenty minutes? Humans are strange creatures," idly commented Fenrir.

Twenty minutes? Had he really been standing there that long? Shaking his head to clear his errant thoughts, Zack pushed forward, opening the doors to the church and stepping inside.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the change in light as he slowly eased forward, watching for the broken pieces of flooring beneath his feet. The church was falling into such disrepair, much like the shattered city around him. There was a small pang of regret in his heart at the sight, and he suddenly longed to have the resources and strength to rebuild it.

His vision cleared, and he peered into the interior of the church. Beneath a small corona of light at the far end was a bed of flowers with two occupants kneeling among the colorful blooms.

He recognized Aeris almost immediately, her red-brown hair an instant giveaway. She was wearing pink, her favorite color, and her long locks were pulled back into a braid that trailed down the length of her back. He couldn't see her face as her back was to him nor did he recognize her companion, a small boy probably around three or four years old.

The child had brown hair, and Zack couldn't help but wonder if he was a relative to the flower-girl. They were speaking to each other in low tones, but the swordsman couldn't quite make out what they were saying. The boy was smiling, however, so he took that as a good sign.

Grinning to himself at the pretty picture they made, Zack decided to make his presence known. "I knew I would find you here," he called out, loudly enough for them to hear but not enough to startle or scare them.

There was a gasp at the sound of his voice, he could only assume that she recognized it as the auburn-haired female turned around, eyes widening in sudden acknowledgment. They were just as remembered, jade stone. Zack's smile widened, anticipating a happy reunion.

That was, until he heard the sound of a gun cock seconds before a barrel was placed to the back of his head. His heart plummeted into his stomach for just a second as he contemplated if the Lifestream would send him back after his second death. However, he quickly reined in his emotions, assuming that whoever was trying to kill him was a friend of Aeris and only attempting to protect her.

"Put your hands where I can see them," hissed a most definitely female voice. She pushed fiercely against the back of his head with her gun to emphasize that it was not a warning. She meant business.

Zack slowly started to raise his hands, trying to appear as if he was not a threat. A smirk appeared on his face as he was quite amused. So… the female thought she could take down a 1st Class SOLDIER, did she? He was itching to see if he could move faster than she could pull the trigger.

(Show some restraint,) warned Fenrir. (If she is an ally of Aeris, you don't want to hurt her.)

'Right,' drawled Zack internally. 'Never mind that she is the one that has a gun pointed to my head.'

Fenrir snorted in response but did not say another word. Taking the demi-god's silence as meaning he was free to do as he wished, Zack put his rapidly formed plan into action.

He moved quickly, reaching up and grabbing the gun even as he twisted his body to avoid the reflexive squeezing of the trigger. The bullet whizzed by his head, slamming harmlessly into a less than stable wall in the same moment that he grabbed the body of the woman behind him, pulling her against his chest and restraining her with one muscular arm. The gun clattered to the floor, and he unconsciously kicked it away.

He caught sight of blonde hair and smelled a scent like that of air right before a dangerous thunder storm. It enveloped his senses, swirling about him almost as if it were tangible. It pushed and pulled at his body, tingling along his skin as if electricity were prickling at him. It was both unsettling and intriguing, though he had no time to ponder on it as he now had her in his grasp.

She snarled at him but miraculously remained cool. He grinned, thinking he had won, when she suddenly put up a fight. The blonde jabbed an elbow backwards, into his solar plexus, stomped against his shin with her thick boots and slipped out of his grasp, all in one smooth motion. He gasped for breath, seeing stars from the jab to his sensitive chest. A sharp stab of pain shot up his leg, which he forced himself to ignore for the moment.

She whipped around, turning to punch his face. He barely managed to block the blow but was not prepared for the lashing high kick brought about by her leg. It caught him in the ribs, and he doubled over in pain, still unable to catch a breath. He dimly heard Aeris yelling something in the background but was too distracted by the stars in his eyes to even understand what she was saying.

The blonde woman reached behind her, pulling up the cloth of her white dress shirt and pulled out another gun, one that she must have kept tucked into the hollow of her back. She pointed it at his head, cold intention behind her eyes as she cocked the handgun at him… even through his delirium he could see that it had been modified for Flare bullets, not an easy task.

"On your knees," she ordered, and he could swear that a chill wind flowed through the area. He looked up at her, finding brown eyes that danced and fascinated him. She was unyielding in her stance, her gaze proving that she would not stand down and nor did she fear him. He found he was captivated and could not have looked away even if he tried.

Loud laughter interrupted their staring contest as his eyes flickered to Aeris having risen to her feet and not standing that far behind them. She had a hand on her belly and the young boy at her side; he was clutching her other hand.

The blonde, however, did not take her eyes off her foe. She had been taught well.

"I do so enjoy seeing you getting your ass kicked, Zack," commented the pregnant woman warmly, amusement evident in her tone.

The former SOLDIER winced as Fenrir chuckled at him in his mind. He glared at the demi-god, daring him to taunt 'I told you so' even as he struggled to draw in a breath that was not ragged. It felt as if his lungs had been deflated, never to draw air again.

"I'm sorely out of practice," he said by way of excuse. It was pathetic at best. "Being dead for more than a year will do that to you."

The blonde's eyes widened in surprise, though she refused to stand down or look away from her adversary. "You this know man?" she questioned Aeris, without glancing over her shoulder.

The flower-girl nodded as she moved to stand beside her, the small brunet child clinging to her side. "This is someone from our past, another that should be dead. Elena meet Zack. I suppose I can't take anything for granted anymore, now that Sephiroth has returned as well."

Elena frowned and put away her gun, checking it before slipping the pistol back into its secret place. "Not much of a SOLDIER, were you?" she questioned with a smirk, shooting the dark-haired man a glance before moving to reclaim her other weapon from the floor of the church.

Zack struggled to get to his feet as he gaped after her in surprise. Aeris laughed out loud and shook her head.

"Seph is alive?" he questioned, finally registering what Aeris had said not but a few seconds before Elena had spoken. He raised a brow in surprise even as he stretched, his lungs still protesting each breath as his shin screamed in pain. That woman had a fearsome fighter spirit within her.

The flower-girl nodded. "Yes, surprisingly enough. But now… I'm not so sure."

"You are not making any sense," complained Zack, somewhat limping his way to a creaking, rotting pew and sitting down on it; the wood groaned under his weight. He turned crystalline, blue eyes on to his former girlfriend and friend. "You're not sure he's alive?"

"Sephiroth showed up out of the blue early this morning," answered Elena, coming up to join their discussion. She stood, cockily eyeing the man she had managed to best with a smirk. "Somewhat like you. Or at least, it was someone we believed to be him simply because Cloud immediately recognized him."

Aeris shook her head, one hand patting a small brunet head next to her. "And to think, he had this little one with him, too," she commented, smiling warmly down on the small boy. "Denzel, meet Zack." But the boy hid behind her, only peeking out from the side to stare at the new stranger.

Zack choked, eyes darting over the brown-eyed child as his jaw gaped. "This is Seph's son?" His mind was whirling with the implication.

"No, dumbass," responded Elena, smacking him upside the head, more for her own amusement than trying to knock sense into him. "Sephiroth found him and saved him. Ask the kid, he'll tell you, if you can get him to speak."

The dark-haired man rubbed the back of his head with his hand as he shot the blonde woman a glare that seemed more playful than angry. It seemed he couldn't pull off righteous pissiness as well as some that he knew.

He sighed and returned his gaze to Aeris. "Why did you sound hesitant earlier then?"

The flower-girl shifted uncomfortably before moving to sit in a pew across the aisle from him. The child, Denzel, refused to move from her side, clinging to her and peering at the dark-haired man with some measure of distrust. Unlike Zack's seat, it accepted her weight easily, not making a sound in protest. He found himself glaring at the pew before he realized it and returned his attentions to her.

"The Planet has told me that, in the wake of the coming battles, I cannot fight," began Aeris slowly as Elena took the chance to lean against a broken seat, feeling too restless to sit. "But she said that it had sent a replacement, someone to be its warrior in my wake. I had assumed that to be Sephiroth, that he had been given a chance."

Zack grinned, pointing a thumb at himself. "That's me! Or at least, that is what the Planet told me!" He scratched at his hair, soothing the ruffled spikes. "I don't know really… sometimes it is hard to understand them."

Aeris shook her head. "Then why has Sephiroth returned? That is why I was hesitant. If you are here, well, I can believe you are the warrior more than he… but what is his purpose? Could it be his intentions are not good?"

The former SOLDIER's expression suddenly turned serious. "You knew him before Nibelheim, Aeris, can you tell me that was really him that tried to destroy the world?"

The flower-girl frowned and sighed. "No, you are right. I think the only ones who believed he was evil were those who never met him before the… incident. I know Cloud, despite his anger at this present moment, still wants to believe that he is the same cold General that he knew before the insanity."

"Still hero-worshipping, eh?" questioned Zack with a small laugh. He narrowed his gaze on her belly with a grin. "But I see now that is has gotten over some of his earlier hang-ups… congratulations."

Aeris blushed. "Only three more months," she commented wistfully.

"Well," interrupted Elena. "What are we going to do then? Tseng and Cloud still have Sephiroth up in that cell. When they learn that he might not be here because the Planet sent him, he may never get out of that cell."

Zack seemed interested at the mention of the other two men as rose to his feet. "Can you take me to him?"

The flower-girl gingerly stood. "Of course. It seems the fates have been bringing about a reunion of sorts, haven't they?"

"Though, not the type Hojo had in mind I think." Zack laughed as Elena shot him a strange look.

"You have been dead, how do you know about that?" she demanded. "Or was your death another fake, too?"

The dark-haired man held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Just because you have joined the Lifestream, does not mean you cannot see what happens above. Besides, I was in that fuck's tender care before I died. I heard all his rambled musings. Ow!" His eyes darted over to the flower-girl who was staring at him amused.

"Don't curse!" she reprimanded. "There are children present."

He rubbed the spot on his arm where she had punched him internally glaring at Fenrir who seemed to find the entire situation amusing. "Yes, ma'am," he responded teasingly.

Aeris shook her head at her former friend's antics and gestured for Denzel to come to her side. "We'll take you to ShinRa headquarters, right Elena?" she turned a questioning gaze to the blonde woman who was still eyeing the man with a sort of suspicion.

"The sun's gone down," commented the Turk, idly checking her weapons. "We will probably have to fight our way there."

Zack grinned cheekily, gesturing to the sword at his back. "Nothing I can't handle."

Elena smirked and eyed him disbelievingly. "What? With those amazing SOLDIER skills you showed me just a few minutes ago?" She turned her brown eyes towards Aeris. "Don't worry. I can keep us safe."

The man bristled as he gaped at the blonde Turk. "I may be a little out of practice, but I think I can handle whatever this place can dish out," he retorted as the eclectic foursome began heading for the door of the church.

Denzel disappeared for a moment, returning seconds later with Aeris' staff in his hands. She had left it in the small corona of flowers. With that taken care of, they left out the door with Elena leading the way to ShinRa headquarters.

"They are like children," Aeris mused aloud, speaking to Denzel. He looked at her with wide, brown eyes before giggling and sneaking glances at the two bickering one time ShinRa employees that they were walking behind.

However, the flower-girl knew that it wasn't that the two disliked each other. It was Zack's way to tease and annoy just as it was Elena's way to taunt and pick. They were going to be friends, Aeris just knew it. She smiled slightly at the thought even as she turned her eyes heaven ward.

Night had indeed fallen on Midgar, and when it did, it descended with a thick, inky blackness that was barely pierced by the street lights that survived the attacks on the city. Power was threaded through the surviving homes by three of the reactors since the plants that relied on the coal that was being shipped out of North Corel were not finished with their construction. As it was, the citizens of Midgar were required to conserve energy at all costs.

Reeve had found a way to give each home an allotment of power so that they were forced to preserve their energy. Aeris wasn't sure entirely how it worked as it was a touch and go process, but she knew that he was trying his best not to rely on the Planet's energy. She was hoping that everything would turn out all right, considering that it was ShinRa that caused EVERYTHING.

Aeris was pulled from her internal musings as both Zack and Elena had paused in the streets, senses alert for something she had not noticed. She stopped just behind them, pulling Denzel to her side as she cast about with her eyes and ears trying to discern what had caused them to pause. A skittering on the road ahead drew her attention.

"What is it?" she whispered, unconscious fear making an uncomfortable twinge in her belly. Beside her, Denzel whimpered and buried his face in her dress.

(Abominations,) came Hephaestion's tired voice within her mind. The demi-god was still exhausted from the battles earlier and sustaining her strength so that she could help heal the wounded and dying. Aeris had her anima to thank for her vague feelings of weariness rather than full blown feet-dragging tiredness.

At the same moment that Hephaestion spoke, Zack had also answered. "Monsters… ahead of us. And big by the sound of them."

"How many?" questioned the flower-girl, increasing her hold on her staff.

Elena shook her head, calmly reaching for her Flare-modified handgun. She mourned the fact that she could not use her high-powered rifle as she had left it behind when Tseng and she had decided to take a stroll through Midgar the day prior… when they had first run into the stranger Seraph, who had turned out to be the former General Sephiroth.

"Only three, but they are more than enough to give us some trouble." No sooner had the words left her mouth than the air beside her shimmered briefly, small flashes of sudden lightning and swirling wind coalescing and collapsing to form a tall, regal masculine figure.

He had shining bright blue eyes and an age-lined face. His grey streaked brown hair was long and crested smoothly to about mid-back even as the sides were decorated with braids. He wore brown and white robes draped over his tall and thin form, while a metallic staff glinted in the harsh lamp light above. Aeris knew without question that he was an anima, and she took an educated guess to whom he belonged.

"Those abominations that are not natural," responded the newcomer with a firming of his brow. "They are combinations of beasts that do not belong on Gaia."

"Hai, Raijin," commented Elena with a nod. It was then that the creatures chose to make their presence known.

A set of low, twin growls accompanied by the swish and clack of claw-like limbs skittered across the ground. A pair of monsters, looking a lot like a Tomera with a vague resemblance to Nanaki stepped out of the shadows. They hissed at the foursome, thick saliva dripping from their fangs as their eyes took on an unnatural gleam. Thick black, red, and gold mottled fur was very evident as their twin sets of tails and mouth feelers twitched restlessly.

Zack cursed under his breath and withdrew his sword, leveling the thick, huge blade at the oncoming monsters as they advanced ever so slowly, hissing as they came. The Torlions, as Aeris called them in her head, didn't appear to be attacking… only scouting out their enemies to discern their danger.

"What the hell?" demanded the dark-haired man on the edge of a whisper. He did not recognize the creatures before him, only knowing that the sight of them sent a chill down his spine.

Elena frowned. "Hojo liked monster subjects as well as human. He was delving into cross-breeding before his demise."

The third monster made his appearance even as she spoke. It was a very familiar sight to the blonde as was the sound of its feet clacking against the ground. Denzel whimpered, fingers tightening in Aeris' dress as she unconsciously tightened her grip on his back and stared wide-eyed at the abomination.

It was a Stilva Dragon, just like the one Elena and Tseng had fought a few days ealier, only this time it seemed larger and meaner than before. Though, that might have had something to do with the small amount of fear that had settled in their hearts. While Elena knew the capabilities of the dragon, none of them knew anything of the Torama-clones.

(Ai, this is a battle you can not handle on your own,) said Fenrir to his animus.

"That much I could have told you," responded Zack dryly, ignoring the odd look that Elena sent his way. Not but two seconds later and the demi-god appeared beside his anima.

"Aeris, you need to get Denzel somewhere safe," intoned the dark-haired man, his voice sounding strange, as if he had slipped into his battle mode. The flower-girl nodded in response, looking around quickly for a place for them to hide. She spotted a small building with a door hanging slightly open and swiftly pulled the brunet boy with her. She didn't look back as they ducked into the building and closed the door behind them, peering out through a dingy window at the fight that was about to take place.

"Why are they just watching us?" muttered Elena under her breath. "Why won't they just attack?"

Zack shook his head. "I've a feeling we're about to find out soon enough." He would have to make do with his sword and whatever powers Fenrir had because he had no materia of his own. Not that he necessarily needed it.

The Torama-clones hissed angrily, which was the only warning they gave before springing in mighty leaps towards the foursome of mortal and immortal. The sound of a Flare-powered hand gun echoed through the air as Elena took her first shot, ripping through the shoulder of the first Torama-clone, spattering blood and bits of bone everywhere. However, it did not slow the creature down in the slightest; the beast kept coming, fiery tails twitching angrily as claws extended from all four of its feet.

Zack swung his sword in a huge arc, blocking the attack of the second and twisting to narrowly avoid getting slapped in the face by a fire tail. The Torama-clones were FAST, running and leaping around him more quickly than he could swing his sword. He and Elena stood back to back as the creatures circled them, occasionally darting in to attack. The Turk fired shot after shot as the ex-SOLDIER blocked each attack with the flat of his blade. Yet, it seemed the clones were either impervious to pain or didn't care either way about it.

In the aftermath of the attack of the Toramas, the two mortals had nearly forgotten about their third opponent.

The sound of a quick indrawn breath called Elena to pale as she risked a glance at the Stilva Dragon, scuttle walking its way towards them and gathering up a breath of power in front of its body. She briefly recalled the attacks that she and Tseng had taken out first last time: Great Gale and Dragon Breath. Just then, the two Toramas leapt in sync, taking the moment of surprise as an opening.

Elena went down in a bundle of fur and limbs and claws, pushed against Zack's back with the force of the monster's attack and setting the dark-haired man off balance. He stumbled forward, twisting his body to avoid the attack of the second Torama and attempting to swing his blade one-handed in a wide-arc as he did so. He caught the left hind leg of the beast and lopped it off cleanly, blood spraying the ground as he fought to keep his balance. Still, the monster seemed unfazed and rushed at him again, fangs aiming for his throat.

Until a lightning bolt burst out of the dark and shoved into the belly of the beast, causing it to yelp in surprise and back off a moment, eyes glittering with intelligence and anger. Zack immediately turned to help Elena, who was struggling to fight off the Torama, her body already covered with small burns and slashes. He dove into the fray without a second thought, wrapping his arms around the clones neck and pulling back. The creature wriggled beneath him and snarled, fiery tail whipping around and trying to strike him.

The ground rumbled and shook as the Stilva Dragon released its pent up power, determined to set them all afire with its poisonous acidic breath. A dark purple and green miasma shot like a string of liquid towards the grappling foursome. The earth cracked and screeched, shuddering intently before a great wall of stone and soil shot up between the dragon and the fighting foursome. Fenrir stood at the top, building up the barrier until the breath struck it harmlessly, fizzling away underneath the solidarity of the stone and soil.

The demi-god watched it all with bemusement before pulling a weapon out of seemingly thin air, a dual bladed pole arm, and jumping down on the side of the wall that housed the Stilva Dragon.

Elena managed to free an arm and dug her hidden handgun from her back, pulling it out and shooting the Torama through the bottom of its head, narrowly missing Zack's own. It yelped and went still in their grasp, body twitching almost uncontrollably. Before the two could take a breath, the remaining clone leapt at them.

Thinking quickly, Zack rolled and reached for his sword, bringing it up as he came to the balls of his feet and slicing the long, thick blade through the air. The Torama had no time to change its flight plan and succumbed to being sliced in two by the monstrous blade. The two pieces fell in a bloody heap to the ground, twitching just like its counterpart.

Elena's nose wrinkled in disgust as she crawled out from under the carcass and its still twitching form. She would likely need a Cure materia, but other than that she would survive. The sounds of battle could be heard just on the other side of the barrier as Raijin, who disappeared in and out of battle like a shadow, and Fenrir took down the Stilva Dragon on their own. The earth rumbled and they could see lightning flashes but not much else.

Rolling her shoulders and casting the dark-haired man a glance, Elena tucked her gun back into its hiding place before making for the wall of stone, determined to climb it and aid her anima.

"Like they need our help," grumbled the ex-SOLDIER good-naturedly as he moved to join her. He hadn't felt so good in a long time. The one battle had awakening all of his dormant fighting instincts. Sure, he had fought a little before to earn money for his current weapon, but those were easy battles and were won within seconds. Something like the clones and the Stilva Dragon, however, were of an entirely different caliber.

"Zack!"

His attention was instantly pulled behind him, finding that Aeris and Denzel were running from the building where they hid, fear evident on their faces. He had very nearly forgotten about the two. His face furrowed in confusion as to why they were running, but it was quickly allayed as the sight of two more Torama-clones came bounding out of the building after them.

"Shit!" he cursed, taking off quickly towards the running duo. One of the clones made a leap for the two, Aeris pausing only to pull Denzel behind her before she whipped out the staff and swung it in a wide arc. It slammed into the creature's head, and though it did not cause a lot of damage, it was painful and the monster paused in its track. She was six months pregnant but not at all helpless!

"Elena!" called out Zack, knowing he would need the Turk's help.

"You rang?" came Fenrir's somewhat amused voice, suddenly springing into existence behind him.

He didn't have a moment to remark on that as they had finally caught up to Aeris and Denzel, the brunet boy immediately latching onto Zack and crying intently. The flower-girl was out of breath and had a pained expression on her face but seemed otherwise all right. She moved to stand beside the ex-SOLDIER even as he drew his blade again, still blood-stained from earlier and lowered it at the advancing Torama-clones, who were again regarding them with that strange intent look.

"Can you do anything other than make huge walls spring out of the ground?" questioned Zack, shooting his anima a glance.

Fenrir raised a brow. "Can you do anything other than swing that huge sword around?"

"Touché," commented the dark-haired man as he again turned his attention to the advancing clones.

"Do not worry, Loire, I believe we can handle these abominations," intoned the anima.

Zack didn't respond, already forming a plan in his mind. It wasn't really a battle tactic, but it was one of his favorites. Sephiroth had always told him that it had no class, but it got the job done. Cloud was proof of that. And with the Toramas' speed and twin tails, he figured it worked perfectly for him. It even had a name: Hack-and-Slash.

He detached Denzel with a bit of difficulty from his side, pushing the boy towards Aeris before letting out a fierce battle cry and rushing the Torama with no warning. They hissed but stood their ground, convinced a manling would not be able to take them down.

Zack started swinging before he even got there, a series of intricate sword dances that would be difficult to block and even harder to ignore. One of the Toramas leapt away, but the other stood its ground, whiskers twitching at the sides of its mouth. His blade bit into a shoulder, but the clone danced out from beneath the next swing, sending a tail shooting his way. He dodged that and absorbed the lash from the second, knowing it would sting like a bitch later, before slashing viciously at the clone putting a gash along its side as it twisted its body in an almost sinuous manner.

Zack took several steps forward, determined to end the fight, and found that his ankles were wound about by the monster's incredibly long whiskers. He tottered on his feet for a moment before tumbling over with a gasp of surprise, finding that the whiskers must have been coated with a poison because they burned through the fabric of his pants and seared at his skin.

He gritted his teeth against the pain and fought to reach for his sword, which had fallen from his hand as the Torama pounced, still restraining him with its whiskers. In desperation, Zack grabbed the closest thing he had to a weapon, a nearby stone, and brought it down over the creature's body, wishing that it were more like a boulder and could crush the beast rather than distract it.

There was a flash of bright green light and before he knew it or could even blink, the creature had turned to stone before his eyes, the perfect statue of a Torama-clone. The rock was gone from Zack's hands, but the monster was petrified. Amazing.

Extracting himself from the hefty weight of a stoned monster, Zack looked around, surprise still on his face. He barely registered when Fenrir dealt the killing blow to his opponent, so shocked he was by what he had done. In that very same moment, the wall that blocked them from the Stilva Dragon collapsed in a display of lightning and light, revealing a haggard Elena, a pleased Raijin, and a smoldering corpse of dragon behind them.

The group of six slowly gravitated towards each other, looking a little worse for wear, but nonetheless, all were alive. Aeris quickly cast a cure on them before anything further was done.

Zack gestured towards the Torama-clone that he had petrified before turning a glance onto his anima. "What was that?"

Fenrir shook his head. "I said we shared powers. I am an Earth and Growth, demi-god. What did you expect?"

"Elena's impervious to Thunder and all electricity," commented Aeris, smiling slightly at the look of shock on Zack's face as he took it all in.

The dark-haired man shook his head. He wandered over to one of the Torama-clone's bodies. It was still slightly twitching, and he looked down on it in disgust. "Fucking Hojo," he commented. "Bastard needs to let things alone." Frowning, he moved to return to the group when he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

It glinted in the harsh light of the street lamp above. He knelt down to get a closer look, reaching out to pluck the square object from the crest of the clone's head. It was small, barely bigger than the pad of this thumb, and thin, almost certainly made of metal.

"What is this?" he questioned, bringing the object back to the group. "It was on the Torama-clone."

Elena furrowed her brow as she took it, looking at them in all in surprise. "It's a chip… a bio chip."

"What was it doing on a monster?" questioned Aeris as Denzel clung to her side. The poor child was still shaking with fright. He had had to endure much the past few days, and it was no wonder he was scared.

The Turk shook her head, pocketing the bio chip. "I don't know, but when we get to HQ, I aim to find out."

"Good suggestion," intoned Fenrir. "It is still dark, and I for one would prefer not to fight any longer."

There was a general nod of agreement as the group of six turned and headed for the ShinRa building once more, leaving behind the scene of carnage and a few slightly twitching bodies.

-----

And I still cut out a scene to be put in the next chapter! Whew! This was loooong!


	37. Haunted

Thanks to reviewers!

**(Voice in Head)**

'**Internal Thought'**

**Chapter 37: Haunted **

He had not had this dream in a long time, managing to bury the memory with all the others he did not want to remember. Tseng didn't think it was fair that there were many such parts in his life he would rather forget. They very nearly or possibly did eclipse what few good and precious remembrances he did have. His life had always been nothing short of difficult, and he had come to accept that. Still, after managing to forget for so long, he did not want to be seeing the same dream again, like he was now.

He had been young then, barely five years old. Too young to be facing what he had, too young to understand much of anything. Yet, it was one of those events, one of the those monumental moments in anyone's life that did not fade with time, only growing sharper as the years went on until each detail was ingrained in memory. As always, it began the same and this time was no different.

… _Crying? Why is Mother crying? He wondered this to himself as he looked between his father and mother, little dark head swinging back and forth as he clutched onto his comfort toy, a small stuffed dog. They were in a building somewhere, the lights barely bright enough to illuminate everything around him. The carpet below him was a royal red and trimmed with gold, a detail he always remembered quite clearly. Tseng could smell the incense of the temple, that thick smoky scent that made him think of jasmine and hickory. An odd combination. _

_The child did not understand. _

_He looked around, silver eyes falling on all the people gathered. There were so many, more than he had ever seen in one place. He didn't recognize anyone. Who were all these people? They all seemed angry and… scared? Father… he looked so sad. Why?_

_The boy tugged on the arm of his mother's nearly starch white kimono, trying to get her attention. The fabric felt soft under his fingers, belying their stiffness. He could feel that clearly. In the same moment, his father's hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed just once. The gesture was as real to him as the day it had first been felt. This made the boy smile up at his father because that usually meant that he was proud. _

_What had he done?_

_So why did everyone look so angry? And yelling… many faces screaming and pointing at his mother, eyes hard and faces drawn with accusatory glares. She winced at every new word and seemed to shrink into herself, no matter how tall and proud she attempted to appear. Tseng wanted to comfort her; he wanted to make that look go away but didn't know how. He grabbed her hand and curled his tiny fingers in her slack palm. She acknowledged him with a tiny squeeze but then dropped his hold. _

_Ouch! _

_He whirled around, eyes wide as he grabbed his head, face scrunched up with pain. Someone had pulled on his hair hard. He caught a glimpse of a dark green fabric disappearing into the crowd of faces around but couldn't say who had done it. He only knew that none looked friendly. He began to be afraid, fear curling in his belly as confusion settled in even further._

_The adults were shrieking at one another over his head. He noticed his Aunt Mihari, his favorite relative, looking pale as her body shook. She seemed as if she wanted to help his mother but couldn't. Why were there tears in her eyes? He was so confused._

_And now father… he was arguing back, his face red and his arm gesturing wildly. Mother buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs, and the boy felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes, the hot feeling pushing at him and threatening to well over. _

_They had been dragged from their home, Tseng practically pulled across the ground his feet barely touching. The guards had held his father at shuriken and knife-point and gestured threateningly to make them obey. They were going to sit down to dinner. It was his favorite meal, and they wouldn't let him eat. His stomach growled hungrily, but he attempted to ignore it in the face of his discomfort, in the face of the fear that was filling him with these confusing events._

_Cursed… fallen… disgrace… these were the words that he heard whispered, that were cresting over and through him. Sometimes they were even yelled. Tseng didn't really understand what they meant, but he knew they weren't happy words, not with the way his mother looked or the manner his father had taken. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth, little hands tightening on his stuffed dog as he pulled closer to his mother. _

_The feelings were thick in the air, so heavy he felt as if he were drowning. It scared him more than the monster in the forest… and more than the haunting darkness. He didn't like being in the inky blackness. He told his mother that the shadows moved and sometimes they talked. She told him not to be afraid, but he did not like the dark, even when it gently touched his hair or wrapped itself around him like a blanket. _

_The voices rose to a crescendo before suddenly dropping in volume. He looked around, surprised by the sudden quiet. Silver eyes took in the sight of everyone gazing at him, locked on his small form. He shrunk back in fear, hiding behind his mother's sleeve. _

"_What about Tseng?" a loud male voice demanded. "What about the boy?"_

_His mother's arm instantly wrapped around him as she shot the man a harsh glare. Tseng welcomed her touch, glad for the comforting gesture even as she spoke back to the accusing man. Her voice wavered, but her resolve was strong. He could feel his father's presence beside them and knew that the three stood a united front… a united family. _

"_He knows nothing," his mother responded. _

_Yet, her words were lost in the cacophony of anger and fear. They were afraid of his mother… but why? He didn't understand why everyone seemed to hate them so much. He could feel it in their stares, and it hurt to see his kin look at him with such strong dark stares._

"_There is no other choice!" insisted the loudest voice of them all. "The laws are clear. You are to be exiled." _

_His mother bit back a sob, her hold on him tightening. "For no other reason than because I am different," she muttered bitterly, "because you do not understand, and you fear." _

_Exile? What did that mean? And why was Mother so sad? Why was Father suddenly angry? _

"_Then we will go with her! I will not send my wife away," came his father's firm voice. _

"_No, Hyuga, you cannot," cried his wife, her voice pleading. "You and Tseng should stay… for him." _

_The boy couldn't see what was going on, but he knew his father was shaking his head. "No. He needs his mother more than he needs this. If you are to be exiled, then so shall we." _

_Fading… swirling… his voice dripping away as the scene always changed with his father's declaration, as if what happened between events was not important to his five-year old mind. The next instances blurred by, moving so quickly since his memory just could not process everything. Then the dream always ended with the same sad scene, the same heart-breaking hopeless-seeming event. _

_The salty smelling wind whipped about his face as his hands gripped the peeling and rusted railing of the boat. Tseng looked mournfully towards the shore of his homeland as his parents stood behind him, one hand on each of his shoulders. One of his own hands came up, to rub at the mark on his forehead. He still couldn't get used to the heavy object that now adorned him. _

_However, he knew he would have to wear it for the rest of his life. _

_He looked up at his parents, who bared the same mark. His dad squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, though neither of them took their eyes from the retreating shoreline as the boat pulled away from Wutai. _

"_We will see Aunt Mihari again soon, right?" he asked, his soft voice carrying easily on the wind. _

_His mother chewed on her lip and lowered her head. "Tseng…" Yet, she said no more, and he knew the tears were coming. They fell so easily now, but she hid her face well, knowing that she was supposed to be strong. Strong for him and strong for what was coming. _

_Tseng turned his silvery gaze back to the fading stretch of sandy shore and felt a pressure in his chest, as if someone had taken his heart and squeezed. He didn't understand what was going on or what had really happened over the past few days. He only knew that his mother had seemed sad lately and his father so angry._

"_We do not need them," insisted his father, his arm going around his wife's shoulder. "We can do this without any of them."_

_Tseng wanted to go home. He wanted his room with his friends and his family. He wanted his soft bed and to play out in the koi gardens. He didn't want to go to Junon or wherever it was his mother and father were taking him. He already missed the smell of the temple or the special tea that his grandmother brewed. _

_They were given hardly any time to pack. He missed his clothes and his toys and everything. _

_He felt tears welling up behind his eyes. He didn't want to leave his home. He couldn't hold back the feelings in his heart as it felt like a part of him was dying. He wept, though silently, as he watched the last remnants of his home with his parents by his side._

_He had never felt more alone. _

_Something in him broke at that moment, a part of him that he would forever hide away and locked deep inside so that no one could touch it. He began to feel as if a little piece of who he was had died… even to his five-year old self._

_Tears spilled from silvery eyes, falling over his cheeks and splashing on the creaky wooden deck below them. He made no attempt to brush them aside nor did his mother either. It was as if she was saying it was fine for him to cry. His stomach clenched but not from sickness. His fingers again brushed over the mark on his forehead, and he couldn't help but cry out aloud, as if his emotional pain had become physical. _

_The salty wind ruffled through his dark locks again, brushing across his tear-streaked face and blurring his vision. _

_  
Even at five years old, his mind he knew that nothing would ever be the same for him again._

_Nothing._

Tseng awoke slowly from the memory-filled dream as he always did when he remembered such deeply hidden things. His mind came into alertness at a snail's pace, barely registering his surroundings. He angrily wiped at his dry face, as if he could still feel the remnants of his tears and stared almost blindly into the dark towards the ceiling. There was a reason he buried his past the way he had, and he couldn't help but wonder why the things he had concealed had suddenly decided to rear their ugly heads.

He rolled over and peered at the clock. He had only been resting for a few hours, but it seemed like longer. Sitting up in the make shift bed, Tseng idly rubbed at his forehead with his fingers fearing another headache. He noticed, of course, when said fingers brushed over the same mark from his memory. That had not changed with the years and nor would it… not even after his death. Such were the laws.

He sighed to himself and pushed his somewhat weary body from the couch, idly flipping on a light as he did so. He and Cloud had been taking shifts watching over the-man-who-claimed-to-be-Sephiroth, looking for signs that would either explain his presence or confirm his story. They slept in the employee lounge when they did so. Not much had come out of it, but neither was too eager to leave the man alone, even if he was behind bars.

Tseng grabbed his swords from the table and stepped out into the brightness of the hall. It was late in the evening, so most of the employees that Reeve had kept had already gone home for the day. There weren't many that still worked for ShinRa, the new President finding that he didn't need many to run a company he was trying to destroy. Those he fired, however, he did manage to find suitable jobs elsewhere so that they wouldn't be thrust into the streets. Reeve was a good man.

The Turk made his way down the hall to the stairs, preferring them to the elevator. It would be quicker and allow him time to think rather than having to listen to that ridiculous music that they insisted on playing.

The man behind the bars still had not changed his story at all, and Tseng and Cloud had come to a stand still. There was not much more they could do except wait… but with everything that had been happening, time was not on their side. Someone or something was again trying to destroy the world, and if they didn't find out who soon, there might not be enough left to save.

His boots clomped noisily on the steps as he wearily made his way downstairs, mind oscillating between the memories he hadn't wanted to dream of and a man he used to know. Tseng didn't know how to explain it, only that something told him that Seraph was telling the truth. He just didn't know how to express that to Cloud without the blond flying off the handle. The ex-SOLDIER was feeling particularly excitable lately, not that Tseng though he couldn't handle Cloud. However, the man had helped destroy Sephiroth the first time, which was not an easy task.

Sighing again despite himself and rubbing a hand along his brow to stave off the headache that always came with thinking too hard and pushing things aside, Tseng pushed open the door to the jail and quickly stepped inside. It was quiet.

Cloud was sitting in the chair, applying a whetstone to his sword as he stared thoughtfully at the wall. Sephiroth was asleep in the cell, though he did not look like his rest was sound. He was tossing and shaking, though the Wutaiian knew he could not be cold. The jail was on the same heating and air system as the rest of the building.

Cloud looked up when he walked in but didn't say anything. Tseng took the seat next to him and calmly observed the former General's restless sleep before he spoke.

"Has he been like this since I left?"

The blond shrugged. "More or less. He was sleeping fine and then… that, though he did quiet some about ten minutes ago, but it soon started up again."

"Should we wake him?" Tseng queried, a very bizarre gleam in his eyes.

Cloud shook his head. "No, he might say something through the nightmare. Besides… they might even prove his story."

Tseng exhaled slowly and sat back in his chair. "We do not have time to keep this up. We either trust him… or we do not. With the mysterious enemy around us, we could use his help, or if not, we could find a better way to keep him locked away so that he is no longer a threat."

The blond frowned and stopped sharpening his sword, hands relaxed on top of the blade. "It's times like this I wonder why it's me that found the power to save the world," he commented.

Tseng turned silvery eyes towards his companion but said nothing.

"Why couldn't it have been someone of wisdom, like Nanaki, who was given the task? Someone stronger than me? But then, perhaps there is a reason for everything." He Cloud shook his head. "Bugenhagen would have had the answers. He would have just looked at him and said, 'Ho, ho, ho, he's a fake,' or 'Ho, ho, ho, it's really him', but he's gone. Vincent could have looked straight through him and found the truth. But me, I'm grasping for straws here."

"You are different then they," responded Tseng carefully. "You have a connection to him that they do not. You knew him before," the Wutaiian added in a strange tone.

Cloud shook his head. "Not all of our connections are obvious as some."

The Turk furrowed his brow in confusion, not sure as to what the blond was talking about. However, before he could ask him to clarify, Sephiroth burst into consciousness in the cell, sitting up with a startled cry and grasping about him as if reaching for his sword. The two men watched in shock as his hand groped around and only came up empty as his shoulders heaved with every breath.

Tseng was sympathetic, considering his own attempts at sleeping.

They couldn't see Seraph's face since his back was to them, but they continued to pretend as if they weren't watching, while they observed him. His hand clenched and unclenched at his side before he suddenly laid back down, without even saying a word. It was as if he were attempting to pretend nothing had ever happened.

Cloud and Tseng exchanged a wordless glance before the blond stood, returning his sword to its stance against the wall and stretching.

"I'm going to attempt to sleep now," the ex-SOLDIER said in a quiet voice to the Wutaiian, his blue eyes occasionally flickering over to the still somewhat trembling Sephiroth. "But you are right… we can't continue to drag this on. We either trust him, or we don't."

"What is the bigger risk?" the Turk wondered aloud.

The blond sighed. "I can't say. Perhaps when I wake up I'll have the answers."

Tseng inclined his head but said nothing more. With another glance towards the man in the cell, Cloud headed for the door that the Turk had just come from not moments before. He left his sword behind, not needing it for the time. He opened the door to step into the hall…

… And came face to face with a crystalline-eyed ghost.

Cloud's eyes widened in surprise as he gasped and took an unconscious step backwards. Tseng glanced up in concern as yet another man who should have been dead came into the room, a most familiar grin on his face.

"What's a matter, Spike? You aren't happy to see me?" questioned the newcomer, his energy completely filling the tiny jail. He darted forward and wrapped his arms around the slack blond, giving him a hug that completely overwhelmed Cloud. The swordsman could only mechanically return the gesture, still in awe as Zack pulled back and ruffled his hair affectionately.

Tseng rose as the blond continued to gape, a group of people coming in behind Zack, which included Aeris, Elena, and Denzel.

"What…?" was all that Cloud could say as his eyes flickered between the newcomers, occasionally darting into the cell before landing on his former best friend all over again. "But you're dead!"

Elena snorted. "Yeah? And so was Sephiroth, but that didn't stop him!"

Zack's grin got even wider if that were at all possible. "Oh yeah! Seph's here?" He looked around, eyes finally landing on the huddled man behind the bars who had uncurled himself to turn and see what all the ruckus was. A look of shock was registered in his moss green eyes. He appeared completely dumb-founded.

"Zack?" came the almost hoarse question.

The blue-eyed man laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Geez, one guy comes back to life, and everyone stands there gaping like a fish."

"What is going on?" demanded Tseng sternly, struggling to take control of yet another impossible situation. Things were getting even more confusing then before. Did no one stay dead anymore?

Elena jerked a thumb in the grinning Zack's direction. "He showed up at the church, boss. Aeris said she knew him, so I didn't kill him. He said that he wanted to come here. That's the short of it."

"But why?" asked Cloud. He hadn't moved from his initial stance, still in shock even as Aeris came to him and hugged him in greeting. He was glad to see his friend alive but wasn't sure if he could believe it, just like he wasn't sure if he could trust Sephiroth's return.

"The Planet sent me!" exclaimed Zack proudly.

Accusing eyes turned towards the man behind the cell. "Then why is he here?" demanded the blond. "He is really false, then?"

The dark-haired man held up his hands. "Hold on, there. I didn't say all that now. Seph might be here for an entirely different reason."

Tseng rubbed his temples, fearing another headache. "Forgive me, but how can we even trust that you are real and not a product of some ploy?" he questioned of the newcomer.

"It is him," answered Aeris before Zack could even speak. "Hephaestion has told me that he is supposed to be here."

"And him?" asked Elena, inclining her head towards Sephiroth, who had said nothing more than Zack's name since the former SOLDIER had arrived. "What are we to do with him, then?"

"Seph!" Before anyone could respond, Denzel's voice cut through the din. He extricated himself from Aeris' grasp, shot a glare at Cloud and rushed to the bars of the cell, a big smile on his face.

"Denzel!" exclaimed the former General in surprise as he stood to his feet. "You are here, too?"

The little brunet nodded. "When are you coming out?"

Green eyes flickered between Denzel and Cloud as he moved to the bar and knelt down so that he could speak to the boy face to face. "Soon… I promise."

"It's amazing," whispered Aeris in awe, leaning in towards Elena as they watched the two interact. "He got attached so quickly."

"Okay, kiddo," interrupted Zack, picking up the small boy by the arms and depositing him back next to Aeris. "Let me talk to Seph for a minute."

Denzel made to protest, but a look from Sephiroth silenced him. He nodded silently and went back to clutching on to the flower-girl. Everyone else watched quietly, unsure what to expect as the two former friends stood on opposite ends of the bars and regarded each other.

"You are yourself," commented Zack, crystalline blue eyes flickering over the features of the man who had once been his best friend. "The madness is gone."

Sephiroth lowered his gaze, instantly feeling ashamed once again for his actions. "Yes."

Something flickered across Zack's face as he regarded his friend. The emotion passed quickly before he turned towards Cloud. "Let me in the cell."

Tseng frowned. "I'm not su-"

"Either let me in or let him out!" insisted Zack a bit more fiercely. "I don't care which. I will break down these bars if I have to."

"Zack-" began Aeris, trying to calm him down.

"No," responded the dark-haired man before she could even finish. He shook his head. "What I have to say is not going to be said through a wall of iron." There was a look on his face that told he would have things no other way.

Tseng looked to Cloud, wondering what they should do… if things were going to get violent. The blond regarded his friend with a strange expression, something shining behind those mako eyes before he exchanged glances with the flower-girl and nodded.

"Do it," he said, returning his gaze to Tseng. "I trust him."

The Turk shrugged elegantly. "Very well," he said, sticking his hand into his pocket and pulling out the key to the cell. He unlocked it quickly, pulling open the door so that Zack could enter. The spiky-haired man grinned at him, blue eyes shining as he moved through the door, coming face to face with the man that had once tried to kill him.

They stared at each other, standing no more than a few feet apart as everyone who was watching held their breath, wondering what it was Zack had to say. There was a moment of silence before Sephiroth shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I am so very sorry. I…" he faltered, not sure what else to say.

Zack regarded him for a moment before stepping forward quickly. The former General moved backwards in surprise, having only the brief thought that his friend was going to strike him, not that it wasn't what he deserved.

Instead, Zack grabbed up his best friend in a hug. Sephiroth was momentarily surprised before he slowly returned the gesture, not used to physical contact that wasn't in the midst of battle.

"I'm glad you are back," murmured the dark-haired man, his head buried in the General's shoulder.

And truly he was. The look of madness he last remembered seeing in Sephiroth's eyes was gone, replaced by a sad sort of clarity for everything he had done.

"You… do not… hate me?" questioned Sephiroth as Zack finally released him from the nearly rib-crushing hug.

The crystalline-eyed man raised a brow. "Should I? It was not you who killed me, but that fucking maniac Hojo and his gang of cronies."

Sephiroth flushed. "Yes, but if I hadn't destroyed Nibelheim and gone mad… Hojo wouldn't have had the opportunity to get a hold of you… or Cloud for that matter," he said in response, gaze momentarily flickering over to the blond. It was then that he noticed everyone else that was watching.

They had quite an audience. He couldn't help it. He flushed even brighter and turned away, hating for the moment that he was behind bars.

Zack laughed, immediately catching the look. He turned towards the others and winked before shuffling up to his friend, shouldering him and leaning in conspiratorially.

"So I hear you've got a kid," he whispered. Raising a brow as Sephiroth's eyes widened and looked to him in shock. "Who's the father?"

Sephiroth looked mortified, shooting the others a quick glance over his shoulder. "Zack!" groaned the former General in irritation.

"Anyone I know?" continued the crystalline-eyed man with a wiggle of his brows. "I bet I know who you would like it to be," Zack added charmingly, leaning forward. He beamed and chuckled. "I never knew you had it in you."

Sephiroth shook his head and brought a hand up to his face. He found, to his horror, that he was blushing profusely, even as he felt everyone's eyes burning onto him. He was distinctly glad that he had his back turned to the others.

The dark-haired man started laughing again before turning towards their group of observers. "Can we get out of here now? Or are we still going to play the, Sephiroth-can't-be-trusted game?"

All eyes turned in Cloud's direction, as if the decision was entirely his to make. And perhaps it was. Maybe as the man who led the group that defeated Sephiroth the first time, he was the only one with enough knowledge to make the right choice.

Yet, for the blond swordsman, it was something he did not want on his shoulders.

Cloud sighed and rubbed his forehead before slumping back down in his chair. "I don't know what to do or think," he admitted.

(It's alright to fear,) came the most familiar voice that he thought he had quieted earlier. (Trust in your friends, and it will be fine.)

'I'm not afraid of him,' Cloud insisted. However, he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince the other… or himself.

(No, you are afraid of your heart.)

"Cloud?" Aeris' questioning voice broke into his thoughts and he looked up. She had noted the strange look on his face. "Are you alright?"

The blond nodded. "I'm fine. What are we to do?"

Tseng and Elena exchanged glances but before they could answer, a sudden loud noise cut them off. An alarm blared, accompanied by flashing orange and red lights, nearly blinding those gathered. Denzel's hands automatically clapped over his ears as he winced.

"What's that?" asked Aeris, looking around in confusion. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to block out the noise.

"It is the evacuation alarm," Tseng explained, already moving to unlock the cell once more. "However, only Reeve has the authorization to issue one. Elena, get everyone out. I will see what is going on."

In the wake of the shrill alarm and lights, everyone was more than quick to comply.

----

Review please! I promise, the next four chapters are kick ass!


	38. Betrayal's End

Thanks for reviewing!

Warning: Language, limesh junk, violence, blood...

**Chapter 38: Betrayal's End**

Reno was in heaven, of that he was certain. Well, if Heaven consisted of a small bathroom with blue walls and a blue shower curtain on the airship Highwind. Oh, yeah, and the dark-haired man on his knees in front of him. He mustn't forget that part.

Reeve had to have the best mouth on a male Reno had ever come across. It was hard to believe he had once been straight. The Turk was more than glad his lover had found his gay side.

Another moan escaped Reno's mouth. Ah yes, Heaven.

The redhead sank back against the wall of the shower, hands tangling in dark hair. The hot water beat against his back, and he couldn't deny how good it all felt. A hot fire curled in his belly as the executive's cheeks hollowed with suction. He emitted sharp cries of pleasure.

Reeve only continued to suck him harder.

Electricity tingled across his veins, igniting his every nerve as he succumbed to the inevitable. The executive was just too damn good at it. The Turk came, pushing forward into the older man's mouth even as he greedily drank down every last bit, his practice over the years keeping him from gagging.

With a gasp and the last tremors echoing through his body, Reno slumped, his body being caught by his lover, who had anticipated that and rose to his feet.

"Damn," muttered the Turk, exchanging a sloppy kiss with his lover and enjoying the way he could taste himself on Reeve's tongue. It was almost like a mark of owning or something. "I swear you get better every time, yo."

Reeve smiled as he wrapped his arms around the younger man, grinding a reawakened erection against his flat abdomen. "How about a little show of appreciation?" he murmured, leaning over to nibble on the redhead's ear. He traced his tongue along the flesh and rubbed his arousal a little harder against Reno's flesh.

The red-haired man grinned and reached around the executive's body to grab his ass and squeeze the flesh there. "How about we take this to the bed, and I show you just how appreciative I am?" He cocked an eyebrow as one finger traced the crease, slipping between Reeve's cheeks.

The amber-eyed man practically purred in his arms as he reached around the Turk to shut off the water and grab blindly for a towel. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

Reno laughed as they struggled to extricate themselves from the small shower stall and head for the bed just in the other room. Sharing sloppy kisses along the way and halfway drying off, they stumbled towards the bed, a horny gleam already in the younger man's eye.

Yet, before they could fall into the blankets and make themselves more comfortable, the intercom for the entire airship crackled to life. The voice of one Captain Highwind filled the airwaves.

"Get yer ass out of bed, Mr. President. We landin' in Midgar in ten minutes!"

And that was all there was. With a clunk, the intercom was shut off and that was it.

Reeve groaned and knocked his head against Reno's. "He has no shame."

The Turk grinned and continued to press his lover back towards the bed. "He's just jealous because he wants to mark his airship with Vincent from this way to that and can't--"

Reeve's knees hit the bed and tumbled backwards onto it, Reno pouncing almost immediately and absorbing him in another kiss.

"We only have… ten minutes," panted the executive, already losing himself to the sensual dance that the Turk was creating as his hands roamed over the older man's body, finding every one of his sensitive spots with practiced precision.

A reddish eyebrow rose. "That's plenty time. I can be quick," he promised before diving down to suck a nipple into his mouth and pulling hard.

Any protest was lost in that moment.

Twenty minutes later, the three ShinRa employees were walking into the building that housed Reeve's office. Cid and Vincent were trying to find a better place to land the airship, though Reno secretly suspected that the pilot just wanted a few minutes alone with his newly rediscovered lover. Nanaki and Yuffie had gone to find Cloud, the ninja muttering something about materia promises, while the lion wolf appeared deep in thought. The three weren't sure where Rude and Shera had gone but knew that they would return by the allotted time.

They walked into the first part of Reeve's office. His secretary greeted them warmly, though she seemed a bit surprised to see his quick return.

"Good evening, Mr. Tuesti," she said as she rose to her feet, giving a slight bow.

Archer grinned cheekily. "Miss Jennifer, a pleasure to see you again as always."

The secretary flushed slightly as she ducked her head. "Good evening to you, Mr. Kyle. I do hope you all had a pleasant journey."

The engineer's eyebrow twitched oddly as a strange expression crossed his face, though he kept up the big smile. "It probably would have been more amusing had you been able to go with us."

Before he could go any further, however, Reno sighed heavily and passed by the flirtatious man, slapping him the back of his head as he did so. "Let's go, lover boy. Lot's of work to be done, yo."

Jennifer giggled as Archer rubbed the back of his head and shot the red-haired man a glare of death, though it was not as fearful as it should have been. He muttered something under his breath that caused the secretary to giggle again before trouping after the two other men towards the door to Reeve's office.

"I trust Tseng handled everything with expertise," the executive questioned briefly as he stopped by Jennifer's desk.

The brunette nodded, reaching down towards a stack of papers and rifling through them until she found the proper one. She pulled it out and handed it to him. "I took the liberty of recording all actions made while you were gone."

Reeve smiled. "Thank you. If you want, you can take the rest of the day off and head out of here early."

Jennifer nodded. "No, thank you, Mr. Tuesti."

With that said and done, Reeve headed towards his office, ignoring the foot being impatiently tapped by the Turk and the look of annoyance on Archer's face. It seemed with the recent return of all of those missing, some of the original joy in the group had come back. The executive only hoped that it could last, though he knew deep down that there was much more to come… probably even worst than what they had experienced already.

Reno and Archer allowed him to enter the room first, switching on the light as he did so and glancing on the paper that Jennifer had handed him. This was partially the reason he was the last to realize the reason for a twin set of startled and angry gasps. The President looked up from the sheet after having read the first line, only to narrow his eyes in anger and crumple the paper firmly in his grasp.

"What the hell are you doing here!" he demanded on a growl, storming into the room.

You referred to Tifa Lockhart, calmly sitting behind Reeve's desk, as if she hadn't a care in the world. She was smiling, smug satisfaction evident on her face as she leaned back in his chair and had her heavily booted feet on the top of his expensive, wooden desk. She was wearing the same outfit that Reeve recognized from the video, and on the sight of her, his blood boiled inside, still remembering what she had done to his Reno.

Tifa laughed at his demand but did not answer, her brown eyes sparkling with her own amusement. Though, it appeared that the sane look once residing there had long departed.

The executive heard the sound of rustling behind him and knew that Reno and Archer had drawn their weapons. He quietly flicked his wrist, bringing a dagger into his hand as he approached his desk, determined to take Tifa into custody and put her behind bars once and for all. He couldn't just kill her, that wasn't his style. However, Reeve couldn't guarantee he wouldn't beat her up a little first… woman or not. That bitch had done much to try and destroy him.

"If I were you, I wouldn't move any closer," the brunette intoned, eyes flashing as the men began to advance towards the desk.

Archer frowned. "Have you a rocket launcher hidden under that unimpressive rack?" he questioned. "Since other than that, I'm sure the three of us can handle someone such as you."

"Especially since I can't see you're little kid bodyguards around, yo," retorted Reno.

Tifa smirked, one of her hidden hands coming up and holding what appeared to a small black box that was about the size of her palm with five gleaming buttons on it, four tinier green ones and a big, bright red one.

"I don't need those twerps," she commented. "Not when I have enough explosives wired to tear down this building and probably all those around it."

Reeve narrowed his eyes in anger as the two men behind him growled with annoyance and frustration. "You wouldn't dare, not after working so hard to try and take it."

The woman frowned, sitting up angrily in the chair as she clutched the device firmly in her grip. "Do not tell me what I would and wouldn't do. If I can't have the ShinRa corporation, then I will destroy it before you can do any more of your damn good works with it."

"But you would die here, too," pointed out Archer. "You've backed yourself into a corner."

The brunette snorted imperiously. "At this point, death is of no consequence. I do not fear the here after." Her eyes flashed with something akin to insanity with much the same look as Hojo the night of his death. "And don't even think about wresting away the controls from me either. The bombs are on a timer as well, and only I know the code to disarm them."

The President growled angrily, hand clenching into his fist. "How the hell did you get into the ShinRa building? Tseng would've-"

"Tseng is too busy with his new pet!" interrupted Tifa. At his odd look of confusion, she laughed heartily. "Oh, you will find out soon enough. As for how I got in, well…" she waved a hand towards the doorway.

"I let her in," came a female voice as the three men turned around, eyes widening in shock surprise.

"J… Jennifer?" exclaimed Archer. "You betrayed us?"

The brunette sneered. "I hated having to be respectful to you everyday of this miserable existence, but for the money promised me, I endured. My father was an executive under Rufus ShinRa, wealthy beyond measure, until you little pricks came in and destroyed it all."

Reno gritted his teeth in anger. "How long until the bombs go off, yo?" he questioned, turning back towards Tifa.

She grinned. "Well, I thought a little test run would be appropriate."

Before anyone could react, Tifa lifted the device and pressed one of the smaller green buttons. Almost immediately the sound of an explosion rocked through the air, shaking the building around them. A bright orange light flared outside Reeve's window, and the executive couldn't help but run towards the glass, looking in shock as one of the newly rebuilt buildings crumpled to the ground in a tumble of broken stone, steel, and glass. His only consolation was that no one had moved into that particular structure yet. At least, not officially.

"Bitch!" exhaled Archer forcefully, though he made no move to attack.

Tifa laughed. "That was just so you know that I'm serious. The other four bombs are in this building, and they will start a chain reaction that will surely ignite the rest of this miserable city… unless you give me what I want."

"And then you will just hand over the device and disarm the bombs, right?" Reeve sneered, turning with a face full of anger towards the brunette. "Then we can all act as if nothing has happened? We are AVALANCHE!" he declared.

"We will take you down in the same way Cloud took down that bastard before you!" argued Reno.

"There is no way you can win," Archer gritted out his eyes flashing fire.

The brunette laughed again, even more maniacally then before. "You haven't even guessed the terms of your surrender. After this, AVALANCHE will no longer be a threat."

(Do not worry,) Seiryu spoke within Reeve's mind. (Leave the location of the bombs up to us.) The executive nodded internally, while outside, he seethed.

The sight of Tifa sitting behind his desk, threatening his loved ones and him yet again was causing his anger to reach a crescendo within him. Though his anima had told him that they would find the bombs, Reeve did not think that his patience would last. He didn't get beyond furious often… or even close to it, but the sight of Tifa had pushed him over the edge.

The woman smirked just then, distracting him. "Speechless, are you? Of course, you would be. After all, I have you in the palm of my hand." She tapped the control device thoughtfully against her hand.

Amber eyes narrowed as Reeve took a step forward, the look on his face sending even a shiver down Archer's spine. "While you have spent this time wallowing in revenge and deceit, the world has degraded into war!" the executive spat, pointing furiously out the window. He continued to stalk towards the brunette at a slow pace, the grin slowly sliding off her face.

Brown eyes widened in shock and perhaps a tad bit of fear as all those present watched Reeve build up to a storm. "Do you honestly think that I will stand by while you sully all that I have suffered to save!" he demanded in a voice gone tight with fury.

Tifa stood up from the desk, locking eyes with the older man. "With one press of this button, I will destroy it all."

But her words were ignored. Reeve continued to stalk towards her, his entire body taut with adrenaline. There was nothing to stop him.

"You tried to kill my lover and put me through hell." He had yet to raise his voice, yet there was something in his manner that made it worse than yelling.

Without intending to, Tifa found herself being filled with a fear unlike any she had known. Her body began to shake as she stood frozen, unable to move in the face of undeniable fury.

Jennifer shifted behind Reno, the movement catching the corner of his eye. He angled his body slightly to keep watch on her, although he never took his gaze off of his lover and the woman who had tried to destroy their lives.

(I found a bomb, Strawberry!) Asclepius exclaimed to his animus. (Hee! It was in a vending machine, yo!) The distinct sound of munching could be heard, though the Turk knew that he was probably faking it. Shaking his head internally, Reno continued to watch the scene.

"You have schemed and plotted to destroy what's important to me all for your own selfish reasons!" The President growled, hands balled into fists at his side as he approached the desk. "And I'll not stand for it anymore!"

With that said, he gave a fierce snarl and launched himself at the brunette without any warning and tackling her to the ground. They landed with an intense thud, knocking things off the desk as they did so. The control device skittered from Tifa's hands, sliding across the floor to innocuously lie by itself several feet away.

Jennifer made another subtle movement behind the Turk and not taking any chances, he turned and whapped the traitor upside the head with the base of his electro rod. He didn't bother to turn on the electricity either. She crumpled to the ground, crying out in pain and clutching the side of her head as she struggled to keep herself upright.

Archer's eyes widened at the turn of events. Although he knew that the anima were looking for the bombs and had actually found one, he didn't expect for Reeve to make such an unplanned move. Yet, he knew he couldn't stand idly by, not with three bombs still missing.

The engineer darted forward, vaulting over the desk and pulling open the first drawer on the right side. He slipped his hand inside and felt along the top of it, pressing the button that was contained within. A shrill and piercing alarm suddenly sounded, echoing through every corridor and room of the building. It was the evacuation alarm that Reeve had installed when the threats against his company and him had started getting more serious. Luckily for them, they had finished it less than a week prior.

(Do not worry, my hatchling,) Tiamat purred. (I have found another. It was on top of a stack of filing cabinets in one of the offices. I shall keep looking.)

He breathed a sigh of relief for just a moment until the sound of a struggle, reawakened his attention. He glanced over the edge of the desk and found Reeve and Tifa struggling about on the floor. The controls lying dangerously close. The slightest wrong move and either one could land on top. Paling slightly, the engineer dove and retrieved the bomb device, his heart pounding.

Tifa hissed as she struggled to break free from the executive's hold, surprised by how strong he was. He certainly didn't look it, but perhaps adrenaline only added fuel to the flame. She beat against him with her gloved fist, but he absorbed the damage as if it didn't matter at all. The brunette lifted a knee, slamming it into his abdomen.

He let out a burst of air, momentarily distracted, before pushing down hard on her shoulders, knocking her head against the floor. She saw stars but was not willing to back down. Fingernails raked down the side of Reeve's face, drawing three lines of blood. He growled angrily and reared back to backhand her, not even considering the fact that she was a woman. He didn't care. In his eyes, she was just the enemy, and she had tried once again to kill those he loved.

Reno moved forward to help his lover when a blade whizzed past his face. He abruptly turned, only to find Jennifer throwing herself out at him, another dagger in her hand. He was mildly impressed at her courage but only for a moment. He simply smirked before flicking the handle on his electro rod and slamming it into her.

The weapon sizzled and popped as it shocked the traitorous woman, causing the blade to fall from her hands and her to crumple to the floor. Her body convulsed, and Reno was sure it would cause a painful wound. Though, Jennifer would live… unfortunately. Both women would survive to face the consequences of what they had schemed.

Two seconds later, the door to the office burst open, Tseng standing there with one hand on his sword. He paused for a moment, taking in the scene. Reeve and Tifa were still wrestling around on the floor. Reno was standing over the executive's secretary, who was unconscious, and Archer was holding some mysterious device.

"What is going on?" he questioned, stepping into the room and frowning. "Tifa?"

At that moment, the executive punched the conniving brunette in the face and knocked her out cold. She slumped against the floor, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Reeve was breathing heavily as he struggled to his feet, hair mussed and suit askew.

"We have no time," Archer said, shaking his head. "She's hidden bombs in this building, and they are on a timer."

The Wutaiian's eyes widened as he reached for the handcuff's he kept on hand. He had only one set, though, and he opted to put them on the more dangerous Tifa.

"Asclepius has found one," Reno explained.

"And Tiamat another," Archer added in. "That leaves only two more, but that doesn't mean we know how to shut them off. Tifa said only she knew the code, and now, she's out."

Reno grinned. "That doesn't matter. The demi-gods can destroy whichever bombs we find. Asclepius has already taken care of the one he's found, and I'm sure Tiamat can handle one tiny human-made bomb."

"Tiamat? Asclepius? What are you talking about?"

Reeve shook his head. "No time to explanation. We have to make sure this building is empty in case we cannot find the other bombs on time. Everyone, out now."

----

Outside, what few employees had still been working in the building stood, burning with complete curiosity as to what was going on. Some of the people from the nearby businesses had gathered, also wondering at the occurrence. The lights from the alarms could still be seen flashing through some of the windows, and if one strained their ears, the sound of them could be heard as well.

The members of AVALANCHE stood outside the building, looking in worriedly. What was perhaps most comical about the sight was that Sephiroth had been put in handcuffs, for precautionary measures of course. Denzel was clutching at the former General's side, shooting Cloud outraged glares, which was pretty spunky for a child not even five years old. Zack stood on the other side of Sephiroth, teasing the man relentlessly even as he tried to convince the blond swordsman beside him to release Sephiroth. Aeris was holding on to Cloud's hand as Elena chewed her lip in indecision, seriously considering going back into the building after her boss.

"What's going on?" Aeris questioned, speaking the words that were on everyone's mind. Hephaestion did not know what was happening either, but he was attempting to find out. Her eyes flickered over to the bound former General, not surprised that he easily submitted to the bindings.

Elena shook her head. "I wish I knew. We've been telling Reeve to take those damn threats seriously. I'm just glad he finally put in the alarm."

The blonde swordsman raised a brow. "Threats? I never knew he was getting any threats."

"Tifa's behind them, isn't she?" Aeris asked even as she sighed. "What happened with her?"

But before anyone could even offer up an opinion, an excited squeal sounded from behind them. They managed to turn just barely before arms wrapped around Cloud's waist and brought him to the ground with a slight oomph.

Zack laughed loudly as the two came to a rolling halt, a thin dark-haired girl planted on Cloud's chest as she squealed happily. The low sound of feet padded up beside him, Nanaki coming to rest on his haunches as he shook his head.

"Yuffie, girl, get off me," the blond panted as he tried to shove the ninja off of him. Around them, everybody was laughing at her enthusiastic greeting.

"Spike! We looked everywhere for you!" Yuffie exclaimed as she moved from her leader's chest and stuck out a hand, helping him get up from the ground. He brushed off his clothes and eyed her with a slightly irritated expression.

"What's going on?" Nanaki queried, his calm voice easily breaking through the loudness. Just then, however, the little ninja squealed, moving over to Aeris' side and giving her a big hug.

"Aw! How much longer? You look so good," the teenager commented.

The lion wolf shook his head and turned to look at his friends, golden gaze flickering over those gathered. He opened his mouth to speak again when his eyes fell on Sephiroth and then on the dark-haired man standing next to him. He, of course, recognized the former General on sight and fell silent, eyes widening in surprise.

"So, what's going on…" Yuffie trailed off as she grinned and turned to greet her friends, finally spotting the tall, leather-clad man with a child clinging to him. Like her friends, she recognized him immediately, especially considering that he was in handcuffs. "Woah! Sephiroth! But… we killed you!"

A sudden explosion on the roof of the Neo ShinRa building stole all of their attention. The ground beneath them rumbled for a short moment. Elena breathed in sharply as many sets of eyes widened in surprise. The sound of roaring flame reached even those on the ground below. Some of the random observers cried out in shock as orange flame shot into the night sky, lighting up everything around them and casting eerie reddish shadows.

"What the hell!" Zack exclaimed, startling everyone with his outburst even as his friend unconsciously pulled on his cuffs and took a step forward.

"Tseng!" Elena called out, hand moving to her mouth.

No one else could speak a word as shocked as they were by what had just occurred. The flames licked high into the sky before suddenly vanishing without a trace as quickly as they had appeared. It went eerily silent.

Elena didn't even wait before plunging forward, heading straight into the building, concern for her boss first on her list. It didn't take long before the others followed.

The door to the roof burst open as a crew of AVALANCHE and recent ghosts come to life tumbled out onto the top of the Neo-ShinRa building, the smell of a recent explosion meeting them flash in the face.

A tired Reeve turned towards them, surprise on his features as he wiped at sweat on his brow. Reno and a giggling Asclepius stood beside him. Archer and Tseng were nowhere in sight.

"Where's Tseng?" demanded Elena, looking around.

"What the hell is going on?" Cloud questioned, taking in the haggard look of both Reeve and Reno and the mysterious, odd looking man? Woman? Teenager? Whatever it was standing beside them.

The executive shook his head. "I think its time we all had a little discussion. These attacks are anything but small. War is on the horizon."

A cheerful, exuberant tune filled the sudden and surprised silence. They looked around until Cloud dug into his pocket a bit embarrassed, flipping open his PHS and answering it.

"Hello?"

"Spike!" A most familiar voice echoed across the rooftop. "I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Uh… Barret?" Cloud questioned, running a hand through his blond spikes as Aeris' eyes widened in surprise, and she mouthed the dark-skinned man's name. "Now's not a good time-"

"Didja think I wouldn't notice the fucking world gone to damn hell?" demanded the former AVALANCHE leader, his voice clear for all the others to hear.

"I didn't think it-"

"Shuddup! Me 'n Marlene 'n Elmyra are comin' to Midgar, Spike! I wanna know why the hell I've seen demons flying about like they ain't scared. Ain't nuthin you can say gonna stop me!" With those words, the phone call ended.

Cloud blinked. "I guess he's coming here."

His wife smiled. "Fate has a crazy way of working things out. I guess the old crew's getting together again."

Reeve nodded his head, glancing down at the scorched roof top then out across the tattered remains of his city. "And just in time it seems."

There was a general consensus of agreement.

----

I know this chapter is a bit confusing with the way I change POV's. Nothing seems to be explained, cleared up or solved, and the like. Yet, don't worry. Everything will come together, including the bomb locations and all that stuff in the next chapter. In fact, be prepared in the next two chapters for PLOT. See you in a week! I hope!

Please review! I'm hoping I haven't lost any readers with the sheer length of this!


	39. Coming Together Again

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Thought'

"_Flashback Dialogue_"

**Chapter 39: Coming Together Again**

"Oh, gods!"

"Vinnie!"

"You're back!"

These were the just some of the words the ex-Turk heard before he was all but tackled to the ground by a very pregnant Aeris, who was now firmly hugging him around the middle. He fought down the urge to stiffen and pull away, accepting the embrace instead. He had promised Cid he would, after all.

"_They missed ya, Vince, not just me. You're a part of something now, you're not alone anymore._"

That's what the pilot had told him, but it was the look in those sky blue eyes that sealed it for Vincent. For Cid, he would do anything… even embrace people when he rather wouldn't.

Though he had returned, the dark-haired man could tell in the way the pilot refused to let him out of his sight or how he was clutched tightly at night that Cid still feared he would again disappear. The former Turk relented to the closeness as it was something that the pilot needed. Vincent's own fear of intimacy was still present, but he was fighting against it with all his might for Cid's sake… if not his own.

Even now, he could practically feel the blond smiling at him from this vantage point right at his side. The flower-girl finally released him from the embrace, pulling back to look at his face and smile at him brightly.

"I'm glad you are back," she said simply, as if he had been gone on vacation rather than had disappeared for six months. She glanced past him and gave a wink. "I know Cid is as well."

Vincent shifted awkwardly at the female arm that was still around his waist. He cursed himself for the slight blush that he knew was spreading across his cheeks as he tilted his head in acceptance of her words.

"I am sorry that I've worried everyone," he put in smoothly, side-stepping to untangle himself. However, she held fast.

"Just don't disappear again! Alright?" Aeris questioned with a light punch to his shoulder, which did little to overshadow the slight gleam of worry in her eyes.

Vincent made a neutral sound, the corners of his mouth twisting into a ghost of a smile, one which vaguely mirrored the Ancient's. Yet, that seemed to suffice enough for her as she pulled away and moved past him, hugging Cid as she did. A second later, she entered the conference room, tugging a beaming Yuffie behind her. It was a fact that the ex-Turk was grateful for as the little ninja looked ready to fling herself at him as well.

The grey-eyed man was forced to cover his mouth so that no one would see the true grin that spread across his face as the now dejected Yuffie was dragged inside. Cid, on the other hand, didn't even bother, simply chuckling as he entered also. By now, nearly everyone was already inside, having gone on after Aeris' abrupt display of affection. Only Shera and Elmyra were not currently present as the two women were in a separate room down the hall, watching Denzel and Marlene.

Initially, Vincent had been surprised by the presence of the boy, who reportedly had been saved by Sephiroth. Also, although he had never personally met Barret's daughter, she had greeted him warmly, gifting him one of those innocent and trusting smiles that only children seemed to be able to give.

"You sure know how to make an exit," Vincent heard as he moved to the door a second behind Cid. The ex-Turk silently gave a whispered pray of thanks to Kami. At least, words were more Cloud's way of announcing himself rather than with an attack of affection like his wife.

Somehow, Vincent had not been surprised to find out that little tidbit of information.

He remembered well the look on their leader's face when the flower-girl had been killed by Sephiroth. It was not unlike the one he was sure that the pilot had had when he had made his sacrifice for the good of the planet. The ex-Turk still didn't know why he had been allowed his life… or if he had even died to begin with. From the moment that Chaos emerged, everything was a blur of blood and anger until he awoke on the shores of Gongaga.

Vincent gazed down to find the blond swordsman grinning at him, as if he were Cloud's own lost love or something similar. He seemed battle ready, sword already strapped to his back. It was a fact that the gunman did not find at all comforting, as if proving to him the reality of why they were all in Midgar… and why he had heard two men long dead had been given another chance at life.

"And an entrance, too, for that matter," the blond implied as he stuck out a hand in greeting.

Vincent accepted it, shaking his hand and nodding his head. "It had to be done."

Cloud raised a brow before gesturing towards the conference room. "After you, Mr. Martyr. I'm sure everyone is as curious as I am as to how you survived."

Vincent shook his head. "Not even I am sure of that," he claimed as he stepped past the blond swordsman to enter the room. "Yet, I will say what I can." He went through the doorway and found his eyes immediately centering on the one man he had not yet talked to. The man the ex-Turk could not even force himself to seek.

He looked just like Lucrecia, especially with his hair darkened and the maniac gleam gone from his eyes. He looked human… and especially vulnerable sitting among those that had taken his life before. It wasn't that Sephiroth looked nervous. In fact, there was a look of faint bemusement on his face with a hint of mischief, but perhaps the latter was due to the fact that Zack was right next to him. Regardless, Vincent could tell in the way the man sat and occasionally darted glances to his friend, who should have also been dead, that the former General wondered exactly what everyone had planned.

'Sephiroth could be my son.'

And those words haunted his mind as Vincent made his way towards where his lover was already seated, talking about something with Reeve from across the table. The ex-Turk did not know what plans or stipulations the President and Tseng had devised to allow Sephiroth to roam freely, but he could tell by looking at the former General that he meant them no harm.

Idly, Vincent wondered if he himself was being given a second chance as well.

The door clicked shut behind Cloud, dragging the gunman from his musings rather abruptly. The blond strolled over to the last empty chair, which was conveniently next to Aeris. Thankfully, everyone was finally present, and even if it was quite crowded with all the people in attendance, they would make do. All of the Turks were present, as well as every member of AVALANCHE… well, the true ones at least. Then, of course, there were also Zack and Sephiroth.

Reeve rose to his feet, the first to speak. "It's unfortunate that only times such as these would bring us all together again. At least this time, it is with all our friends alive and accounted for." His meaning was clear as everyone smiled towards Vincent, who shifted a bit uncomfortably under their gazes.

"Wait a minute," Yuffie said, holding up a hand as Reeve opened his mouth to speak again. "Before we go all into what's going on in the world and shit, I want to know what happened last night that caused the rooftop of this building to go up in flames."

The executive nodded and sat back down. "Over the past six months, ShinRa has been receiving death threats and the like from an unknown source. Construction projects were ransacked and sabotaged, and various employees were getting attacked in the streets, seemingly at random. It wasn't until a few days ago, when Reno's helicopter went down in Gongaga and he was taken hostage, that we even learned who or why."

"It was Tifa," the redhead answered everyone's questioning gaze, leaning back in his chair. "Her and that traitorous bitch Jennifer." He all but spat the name, growling slightly. "She was angry because she considered ShinRa money and property rightfully hers. After I freed myself from her slimy paws and we finally managed to return to Midgar, it was only to find that Jennifer had double-crossed us and had allowed Tifa into not only the building but into Reeve's office no less, yo."

"Tifa's alive?" questioned Barret, a surprised look on his face.

Reeve shook his head. "Let me finish. Tifa had planted five bombs, one of which was in a building just outside the view of my office window." He grimaced before continuing, "She detonated that one for show. After we took her down, we found the remaining four, one was under my desk, and I took them up to the roof, built a barrier around them and detonated them all at once."

"She was locked away," Tseng clarified at Barret's confused expression, taking over in the explanation. "Tifa was to remain in one of the jail cells until we were able to figure out what to do with her." Unhappy lines marred his face as he sniffed disdainfully. "However, at some point in the early morning hours, someone from the outside took down the walls to her cell, freeing her. We do not know who or what it was since the security cameras were destroyed in the blast. Jennifer was left behind. Though in her current state, she is unable to say anything."

"Her current state?" Aeris inquired faintly, not liking where this was going.

Reno nodded and made a slitting motion with his thumb from ear to ear. Everyone got the picture without him having to explain. Tifa had taken it upon herself to dispose of her accomplice. He supposed the saying: "There is no honor among thieves" had some truth behind it.

Archer rubbed his temples. "It was nothing less than she deserved. They would have happily killed us all, if only to keep the money out of anyone else's hands." It was a decidedly morbid way of looking at things, but it was the truth of the matter.

A shuddered silence fell across the room as everyone absorbed the information. Reno felt a nudging at the back of his mind and nodded his head. Asclepius giggled before bouncing into being, popping out of thin air and surprising everyone in the room that had never seen a demi-god before, Barret most of all.

"What the hell!" the dark-skinned man exclaimed as he jumped backwards, eyes very wide. "What the $# is that?"

"Not what, yo," the demi-god teased, blatting thick eyelashes. "Rather who! I'm Asclepius, but more importantly, you have to know how Tifa escaped."

Barret spluttered, unsure what to say in the face of such a strange creature popping into existence in the middle of the conference room. No one else seemed surprised except for himself, so he wondered what it was he was missing. He settled back into his chair with a wary glare to the giggly creature and waited for someone to clarify before he started firing and demanding answers.

"It was something I didn't even realize until just last night," Asclepius continued with a very odd expression. "Tifa is an animus, yo."

There was a general wave of surprise and confusion among those present.

(I know… hear me…)

Tseng frowned as he absentmindedly tapped a finger on the table. Such a sign of nervousness was unusual for him, and it bothered the other Turks in a way they couldn't completely understand. They noted it, exchanging glances, but remained silent, not exactly certain what it meant.

"I thought only the wisest and strongest were as such," the Wutaiian stated very carefully, considering the implications. A peculiar expression crossed his face, but it was gone in an instant. Regardless, his underlings still saw it, and his subsequent, albeit very faint, flinch did nothing to alleviate their growing concern.

The perky demi-god made an affirmative gesture. "Tifa was… at one point. Just because she is on the 'opposite' side does not mean she isn't worthy. Kami does not distinguish between good and evil. After all, Mr. Psychopath over there has one, too, yo." He giggled, pointing at Sephiroth. In turn, the former General flushed and looked away.

"Great! Just $&#! believable!" Cid exclaimed as he threw up a hand to signify something akin to defeat. "Now, we have to worry about the damn enemy having strong ass friends." He gestured violently to the green demi-god. "Is there anything else you've failed to mention, demi-god?"

Asclepius giggled again, laughing. "Yeah, I'm a female, so that'd be demi-goddess, yo!"

Reno instantly reddened as the revelation struck him. He turned in his chair to pointedly glare at his anima. "You're a girl?" he questioned, shock registering in every word. "But I like undressed in front of you and… stuff," he mumbled to himself, surprisingly disturbed by the fact that he had been naked in front of what amounted to a the demi-goddess equivalent of a teenaged girl.

She nodded. "Yep, all my life." Asclepius smirked mischievously. "Boy, you got it all wrong. Though, it was rather funny."

Reeve laughed as he shook his head. "It figures. Reno's anima is a girl. I really should have seen that one coming."

Most of those present also found it amusing, laughing along with him as Reno sighed and banged his head down on the table. "I hope no one else has anything surprising," he muttered under his breath, his mind still focused on the revelation. He had changed in front of the demi-god… ahem, demi-goddess several times. She had actually watched him do it, too, not that nudity bothered him. Still, it was the principle of thing!

The Turk felt a tapping on his shoulder and looked up to find Yuffie grinning at him mischievously. "You might want to know," she said with her voice in a whisper, ignoring the fact that everyone could still hear her. "You're ever wonderful boss, Tseng, and I are cousins. Not only that… but first cousins!" She chucked before playfully slapping the redhead on the arm.

Instantly, all eyes turned towards the Wutaiian Turk, who regarded them back evenly. Reno stared at him before shuddering at the ninja's implication. Rude actually grimaced before quickly schooling his features blank once more. Elena merely blinked, making a strange noise.

On the other hand, Reeve studied them both very closely, his eyes going over their features. Belatedly, he realized just how much they looked alike. In fact, if you ignored Yuffie's normally mischievous grin and replaced it with Tseng's typically blank face… well, the likeness was uncanny. The President idly wondered how he had missed it. Perhaps it was because one would never think that two people so vastly different in personality would be so much alike in terms of looks.

"I can see the resemblance," Reeve put in after a moment, the Turk Commander glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

Tseng rubbed his forehead with a faintly twitching hand and raised an eyebrow. "It is true. However, it is not something we generally broadcast at random intervals." He gifted Yuffie a scathing look.

Barret shook his head. "Man, I feel sorry for you," he murmured aloud to the Turk.

More laughter resounded around the table. The feeling of worry and tension that had settled around with the events looming over them seemed to dissipate in the general silliness that had just occurred.

"Hey!" replied Yuffie indignantly. "I'm not that bad."

"Perhaps, but everyone be sure to count your materia before you leave the room," replied Nanaki mischievously, his eyes sparkling. There was the sound of rustling as everyone obliged the lion wolf's suggestion, though a little earlier than he had meant.

Cloud sighed, idly wiping a pretend tear of laughter from his eye. "I'm glad to see that six months separation, the addition of new friends, and so on has not broken the bond between us all."

For the blond, he was acting strangely somber. His words and tone cut through the happy tone. It was time to get back to business, after all. The world was being destroyed around them from a menace that only a few actually understood.

"You're right," Rude commented. "But first, I want to know what has been happening in Gaia? I see people who should be dead. There are cities destroyed by creatures more powerful than any I've ever known, and something just generally feels off with the Planet."

Vincent sighed softly. "I think I am perhaps the only one who truly knows what is occurring. Or at least, as much as Erebus has informed me and that which I have learned for myself. Much of everything that has happened has been the fault of one being, a demi-god by the name of Balaam."

The entire conference room fell deathly silent as Vincent spoke what would probably be the most words he had ever said at a single time. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair under their gazes but was somewhat comforted by the strong hand he felt gripping his thigh under the table. The same hand secretly reached for his fingers, intertwining with them.

"I know you are all curious as to what happened after my fall in the Northern Crater," the ex-Turk said softly, gaze trained on the tabletop and straying nowhere else. "Yet, there isn't much I remember. After Chaos took over, everything is simply blank." He shook his head, ignoring the hand that fiercely squeezed his own. "There are flashes of blood shed, madness… and a desire to destroy. Blackness filled most of my mind then, except for the tinge of crimson, and I lost all sense of self. My consciousness blanked out, and then, I was awakening on the shores of the Gongaga area with two elderly people looking down on me with none of my memory intact." He unconsciously tapped his fingers on the table, lost in memory.

"Six months went by before anything changed in that respect. The couple took me in, and I called them Granny and Gramps. They were very kind in that regards." Another smile tugged at his lips, but it died quickly. "Then, the next thing I knew, Gongaga was attacked by a group of flying demons that were out to kill me. They destroyed the entire town, slaying without reason, just to get to me."

The ex-Turk paused, mind instantly recalling the night that had began another round of nightmares. Guilt settled in him again. If only he had remembered… or had been stronger. Perhaps he could have helped them more, saved them.

"Some part of me remembered how to fight, and I borrowed one of Gramps guns." He touched the weapon absentmindedly. "This one I have with me now, the Hell Fire, and destroyed them all, including their leader Azamat. I would have died myself were it not for Rude's mother, who poured an elixir down my throat. I was too late to save my caretakers, however." His voice was very tight, and he forced his eyes to remain on the table and not drift to his companions. "They perished at the hands of one of the demons. Due to that, I left, following what few memories I had. I headed for Cosmo Canyon with my newest cohort, the mysterious Erebus."

There was a quiet gasp from the other end of the table, and Vincent looked up, eyes instantly locking on the dark-spiky hair on the opposite side from him. Zack's blue eyes had widened in surprise at the name of the weapon, and he had paled slightly.

"They… were they…" He shook his head, gulping loudly as he tried to find the words.

Shame colored Vincent's cheeks as he lowered his head and again stared fixedly at the table. A hush fell across the room, and the tense atmosphere revived.

"While they were kind enough to take care of me," the ex-Turk began, "it was obvious that I reminded them of someone. They called me Zack enough that I finally allowed them to just continue."

The Ex-SOLDIER slumped back in his chair at the confirmation of his fears. His parents were dead… dying before he even got a chance to see them. Yet again, they had not been allowed to say goodbye. Sephiroth reached for him quietly.

"I'm sorry," said Vincent softly. "If I had been faster, I might have been able to stop the creature before it got to them. It was because they were after me that your parents lost their lives."

Zack shook his head, determination and resolve bringing some sparkle back to his crystalline-blue eyes. "No, you are not to blame here. It is this Balaam person, the one who sent these monsters to attack." His hand clenched around the table's edge. "It's him that will pay for taking away my home and family before I could even return." Yet, even as he made that vow, it was obvious that he was truly upset by the fate of his parents. Sephiroth laid a hand on the other man's arm, his fingers rubbing a soothing pattern.

Silence fell over the conference room. Everyone gathered exchanging ominous glances.

"Balaam is a demi-god," Erebus drawled darkly, suddenly sparkling into existence behind Vincent, once again startling poor Barret. "And he is not to be taken lightly."

"That's it!" exclaimed the gun-armed man loudly, slamming a fist down on the table. "Someone is going to tell what the $# these things are that are just appearing out of the $#&! air right now or I'm gonna get pissed!"

(You… can't just… ignorance…)

Tseng shook his head, trying to dispel the ringing in his ears. Elena watched him out of the corner of her eye but remained silent.

"We are the anima," Seiryu replied, materializing into existence in all his majestic glory. One by one, the known anima followed his example, appearing behind their respective animus. "Demi-gods were created by Kami and made to serve under the great maker, to work with the mortals to protect the Planet. Long ago, the residents of Gaia knew us, just as you know us now. Yet, after the punishment for the Great War, we were forgotten."

"Balaam was once one of us," Gilgamesh clarified, many recognizing him immediately as the summon Odin. "Or rather, he still is. However, he wanted his freedom so he broke away, causing the first war and now trying to start a second." There was an odd gleam to his eyes, but he blinked it away. "Regardless, you would all better know him as Chaos, just as you would know his companions Azamat, Daunte, and Mabuz as Vincent's prior limit breaks Galian Beast, Death Gigas, and Hellmasker."

"That's why they wanted to kill me," Vincent responded with comprehension dawning on his face. "Due to whatever Hojo did, their powers were trapped within me when they broke away from my body. With my death, it would all return in a flood rather than the slow trickle I hadn't even known I was releasing." His hand slipped into his pocket, fingering a small and round, grayish-black globe before he withdrew it and set the swirling marble on the table. "This is what happened to Azamat when I killed him."

"You didn't kill him, silly," responded Asclepius. "You can't kill a demi-god, yo. He merely returned to the sealing materia that Kami had closed him up in."

The redheaded Turk frowned. "Those things that attacked Wutai, they are demi-gods too, right?"

Asclepius nodded, her cheery exterior dimming. "Yes, they're my brothers."

"Brothers!" Reeve exclaimed in surprise. "I didn't realize that the demi-gods were… eh… familial?" he struggled for the word, unsure of how to phrase his statement.

"Many of us were created by Kami himself, but there are still a some that came into being through reproduction," Gilgamesh explained carefully. "For instance, the truth of the matter… Balaam is my son."

"Whoa," Reno commented, shaking his head. "Talk about some shit right there, yo. Glad you're on our side, though."

Barret was gaping, unsure how to handle this new influx of information. "So why are you here, now? With all of us in this room and appearing out of $#&! thin air?"

Aeris sighed and shook her head, shooting him a sympathetic smile. "They are our companions, our match in battle. We are bonded to each other through power due to our unusual strengths compared to the general population."

"Then why don't Spike have one?" the dark-skinned man threw out.

"I do," Cloud answered quietly, looking fixedly at the far wall, "but I have been ignoring him up until this moment."

(Sound familiar?)

Tseng grimaced to himself, forcing his eyes shut. He took several deep breaths before opening them again.

"Just as there are those of us that are fighting on the side of the mortals against Balaam, there are also those that believe in what Balaam desires and have joined his struggle," Gilgamesh inserted with a calm explanation. "Some of the forsaken have also abandoned their anima."

"What I don't understand," Cid expressed loudly, "Is why Mr. Meteor over there has a $#&! anima!" His fingers twitched, as though desperately seeking a cigarette to hold.

All eyes turned in Sephiroth's direction. On the outside, he was calm and collected, but inwardly, he was squirming under their scrutiny. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was Zack who said something first.

He beat his fist on the table and gathered all the attention to himself. "None of you understand what's going on, so just leave him alone!"

"Zack," Sephiroth said gently, his hand squeezing his friend's arm. "There's no need for that. I will tell them what I know, though it is not much." His friend moved to catch his fingers, but he pulled away.

"Please," Aeris expressed, her dainty hands pushing down the tabletop, "we want to understand."

The former General inclined his head and took a deep breath. "Three months ago I woke up on the shores outside of Icicle. The Planet told me that I was to be given a second chance due to the fault of Jenova. Yet, if I messed it up, then she would take it back." He ran a nervous hand over his face. "I didn't understand much of what she or the others were saying, but I know that they needed my help to destroy the current threat."

"Your help?" snorted Yuffie. "Puh-lease. The last thing we need is to stop another Meteor from crashing into our planet."

"That was not me," the former General insisted, his voice rising uncharacteristically. "I did not call Meteor to destroy Gaia!" He wasn't surprised by the disbelieving glances he had been given.

"Right," Cid sneered. "It was some other guy wearing your face and clothes." The pilot flicked his fingers

Sephiroth exhaled slowly and rubbed his forehead. "You don't know how close to reality you actually are with that statement," he murmured as he leaned back in his chair. "I do not ask for your forgiveness as I know I won't receive it."

"Please, explain," Nanaki beseeched, an expression of interest on his face. "According to Cloud, you should have died in Nibelheim, and yet, you showed up five years later with interesting new powers."

The former General shook his head. "I accept responsibility for the destruction of Nibelheim. In my madness and grief, anger at what I had discovered about my origins, I destroyed what I thought was the cause of my pain. I destroyed the town where I had been created. Yet, even then, she was influencing me."

"She?" questioned Barret with the frown. "Who the $#&! hell are you talking bout?"

But it was Cloud who answered. "Jenova."

Sephiroth nodded, lost in memory. "Yes, that siren from the skies. She whispered words in my mind: that I should repay those who lied to me, destroy and take the world for my own. In the Lifestream, I would find the power to go to the Promised Land (1). And so, I dove into the mako reactor after Cloud and I fought." He forcefully dismissed his remembrances. "That was the last time I was the Sephiroth anyone knew. She lied to me, and I died, my mind and body separating."

Rude frowned. "Your body and mind separated?"

"That's right," Cloud realized suddenly. "Like when I fell into the Lifestream… and when you guys found me at Mideel. Aeris had to help me put together the fractured parts of my mind, and the only reason that was possible was because the Lifestream when it takes a living person… it separates their mind from their body. So then technically, Sephiroth, you never died… if what you claim is true."

Erebus' eyes widened in sudden understanding. "That explains how Vincent's demons separated from him. Did Balaam know the properties of the Lifestream?"

Gilgamesh shrugged. "Only Kami knows exactly what he absorbed while listening to the idle ramblings of a madman. Hojo undoubtedly spoke freely around Vincent, not expecting to be heard."

"Then, it was you that summoned Meteor," Yuffie inputted. "I mean, if you didn't die and everything."

Sephiroth shook his head negatively. "You misunderstand. When I fell into the Lifestream Jenova's cells and thoughts took over my body. I had no control over what she said or did. I could only watch as she became even more powerful and tried to destroy the world once again." He gestured helplessly. "There was nothing I could do."

Reno laughed, and everyone gave him an odd look because it was the absolute wrong time for someone to be cracking a joke. He grinned and shook his head.

"I just got this terrible picture in my mind." The red-haired man shrugged. "So, basically, it was like Jenova in a Sephiroth suit, right?"

(His madness is not yours, can you not see that?)

Tseng exhaled, an uncharacteristically bizarre look in his eye. "Reno, that is disgusting."

The other Turk shrugged. "Just calling it like I see it, boss."

"It is fine," Sephiroth expressed, cutting off any other remarks "since he is essentially correct. I suppose that is why Gaia decided I deserved a second chance. A madman ruined my life before I even had a choice in it."

"But if you are here to be a warrior, then why is pretty boy over there alive, too?" Barret questioned, jerking a head towards Zack.

The dark-haired man grinned as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm special." He smiled wolfishly.

Elena sniffed derisively in a gesture very similar to her boss. "Right. From what I've seen, your talents aren't that much to be admired."

The ex-SOLDIER appeared completely indignant as he narrowed his gaze at her. "Hey! Unlike those two," he commented, jerking his thumb at Sephiroth and Cloud, "I was actually dead for almost two years, so give me a break, woman." He squared his shoulders. "I killed that Torama-clone, didn't I?"

The blonde Turk laughed. "You don't even know how you turned it to stone so don't get all huffy on me, loser." She was obviously teasing, a sparkled in her eyes.

"Humph," Zack mumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "Damn arrogant Turk."

"So, are you gonna explain how you got here and why?" Cloud queried. "Not that I'm sad you're here or anything. It's just hard to believe."

The other ex-SOLDIER sighed heavily. "I suppose. I haven't been here that long. I only woke up a few days ago."

"The night of the earthquake," Reeve murmured more to himself than to them, "what a strange coincidence."

Zack shook his head negatively, but it was Fenrir that responded. "It was not a coincidence. The Lifestream now flows from a new area as a result of my animus' appearance. If not for Lady Aeris' infirm condition, I don't think he would have even been revived at all."

"It's true," the flower-girl confirmed. "I've been informed by the Planet that I can't fight in my condition, but Gaia still needs someone to be her warrior."

Zack grinned. "Now, I got two voices in my head. I have the old man Fenrir here and the screams of the Planet." He tapped himself on the temple. "Gaia told me that if I would agree to do this, I would be given a second chance since, apparently, Cloud can't handle it without me."

The blond swordsman rolled his eyes. "Truthfully, I don't think anyone can handle your ego."

Elena snorted. "With his talents, his ego is overrated."

"Hey," the former SOLDIER inserted. "No ganging up on me. I'm just out of practice. I was dead, you understand. I think that can account for any lapse in my skills."

"So the way I understand it, Sephiroth is here since we need the help, and Zack is here because Aeris got knocked up?" Yuffie asked, her voice cutting through the banter between the three ex-ShinRa.

"You would not believe the people I met on that island either," Zack said with more than a hint of approval, ignoring the ninja's interruption. "They called themselves the Jissus, and they were primitive but very helpful." He put a hand to his chin and rubbed thoughtfully in a gesture very familiar. "I haven't ever heard of them, but it wouldn't surprise me if we went back and found they weren't there anymore."

"Sounds to me like you got hit on the head a few times," Yuffie commented with a snort.

There was a general nod of agreement among the anima present.

"Whatever," Zack intoned dismissively before eyeing all those present. "So are Seph and me to be trusted… or are you still going to kick us to the curb?"

"I still can't believe I'm sitting here in a conference room with my worst enemy," Barret exclaimed, his real hand squeezing the tabletop so hard it was almost white. "It's hard to stop myself from wanting to shoot his crazy $#&! ass."

(Curses, child! The very world is at stake!)

Tseng shook his head forcefully and gave a pained grunt. He absentmindedly rubbed at his temples, but only the other Turks noticed any of it as everyone else was too involved in the conversation.

"But everything Sephiroth said is true," Aeris replied quietly. "I have listened to the Planet and Hephaestion both. He is not here to kill us, but I understand that we will not be able to trust him completely without warrant."

"I don't know how you do it," Nanaki commented with a slight shake of his lupine head. "This man is the same one that murdered you, and yet, here you stand speaking for him."

"But he didn't," the flower-girl insisted beseechingly. "It was Jenova, not Sephiroth. And if you would just open your eyes and look at him, you will see the difference between the… _creature_ we fought and the man before you today."

There was silence as all considered her question. Sephiroth lowered his eyes under their glare, even more uncomfortable under this scrutiny than he had been before. But it was their acceptance he desired, not anyone else's. If these people could look past him, these one's whose lives he had harmed the most, then perhaps there might be a chance for him after all. Even if he did not deserve it. He only hoped that they would allow him the opportunity to take down a few forsaken demi-gods before they locked him up.

"I wanted to tell myself that he was the same, if only to make it easier… but not even I can deny it," Cloud said. His voice was soft; yet, it still managed to cut through the silence. "I remember Sephiroth before Nibelheim, probably as well as Zack does, but I know it is my words you will believe before either of them." He nibbled on his lip. "As much as I hate to admit it, but he is right. I never thought that the Sephiroth we were fighting was the one I had admired, and it was only with grudging acceptance of that fact that I even allowed myself to face him."

"What exactly are you saying?" Elena questioned, lightning flashing across her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

Cloud sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "As much as I want to say that I hate him and that he should just be killed on the spot, I can't. I know he is speaking the truth." He eyed his friends, all of whom were turning to them for the answers with faithful expressions, just as he knew they would. "I'm not saying we should trust him completely… I'm not that much of a fool, but we can at least give him the chance to redeem himself."

"If Spike says it, I suppose we can't hardly argue, can we?" Cid suggested, his fingers just itching for a cigarette.

"Humph," Barret muttered. "I don't like it. But so long as he don't attack nobody or try to hurt Marlene, I don't care." He started mumbling under his breath, saying something that suspiciously sounded like "the $#&! bastard" before being elbowed into submission by Cloud.

"Don't worry." Zack winked and grinned devilishly. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"And so the warriors of Gaia were chosen," Hephaestion stated forcefully, cutting off any and all unneeded comments. Somehow, he knew that Elena had a smart ass remark to make. "Nevertheless, there are yet others that need to be found."

(to be continued in Chapter 40: Unlocked Tears…)

----

(1) For those of you confused, I'm going with FF7: Last Order rather than the video game in terms of what happened in the reactor.

Sorry guys, but this chapter got so freaking long I just had to split it up!

So, is anyone still reading this? No one's left a review in a while... or even asked me to update so I'm not sure. Just drop me a line?


	40. Unlocked Tears

This chapter gets a bit confusing, but if you read it slowly, you will understand it, trust me. It picks up directly where Chapter 39 left off. I tried to post it sooner, but kept getting error messages. I wanted it to go up at the same time as 39 but, oh well, I guess.

(Voice in head)

"_Flashback Dialogue_"

**Chapter 40: Unlocked Tears **

"Others?" questioned Reeve. "You mean there are even more anima out there?"

Tiamat nodded. "For certain, one of our own companions has not been able to contact his animus. He claims that it is not that he is being ignored, just cast aside as if he did not even exist. The bond only develops between those of great strength and wisdom, however, which limits the number of candidates."

(You can't… ignore me forever!)

As everyone was pondering this question, Elena happened to glance over at her commander, noticing that he was rather pale. He almost looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Boss?" she questioned in a whisper, leaning towards him. "Boss, are you okay?" the blonde tried again.

(… not… like her)

"I am fine, Elena," he answered distractedly, running a hand through his loose hair as another of their friends spoke again.

"You said something about the forsaken," Rude commented.

Seiryu inclined his head. "Those of us that have turned to Balaam, joining his side. Some were meant to be anima and have thus abandoned their animus."

Cid frowned. "How do you know who is an animus and who isn't? I mean, that green one said Tifa was an animus." He jerked his thumb at Asclepius, who beamed.

"Each person emits a certain aura that has a much to do with the Lifestream flowing within their body," Gilgamesh explained, elaborating carefully. "We can feel the difference between those of the common folk and those chosen for the animum bond. You would have known if you were abandoned due to a sudden feeling of loss accompanied by severe distress, depression… grief," he added in an afterthought. "It would feel as if someone you knew and loved deeply had just died."

Archer frowned in sudden understanding. "That explains much of it," he murmured. Amethyst eyes darkened sadly as he looked towards his former lover. "Your anima has abandoned you, hasn't it?"

The pilot shrugged, his fingers itching for a cigarette. "I dunno. Hadn't been hearing any voices, if that's what you're asking."

The engineer nodded as Reeve looked between them in confusion. "What are you talking about, Archer?"

"You wouldn't know," the amethyst-eyed man expressed. "Most of you went your own ways after the final battle, while I stayed on as Cid's partner. I saw him at his lowest… but that's not the point." He turned to face his former lover. "You remember, it was about three months ago. It seemed everything was going to be alright, and then suddenly, you crashed and burned like nothing I have ever seen."

Tiamat seemed to be thinking it over, her silvery glow flashing suddenly. "Yes, that does sound like the breaking of a bond. I can only wonder who it was that we lost to the other side," she directed at her mate before turning back. "There are some that have also become neutral, refusing to take either side."

"I don't hear no voices either," Barret said, furrowing his brow. "There was a point awhile back I thought I was missing something. I spent a month looking for this thing, just searching 'round everywhere. Never found it, though," he commented.

(… hide… no longer)

"Then," Archer began, considering everything, "the only one left of us who does not acknowledge anything is Tseng." He put one hand on his chin before turning to the Turk.

Immediately, the pressure fell on the Wutaiian, though no one else turned directly to him. Archer was simply making an observation. However, Tseng suddenly paled.

They knew… or at least, suspected. Had he not hidden it well?

Before anyone could ask him directly, Tseng reacted. "I don't hear anything," he bit out a little too forcefully.

(If… you… just… LISTEN TO ME!)

Aeris began, squinting her eyes at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. "There isn't anyone left. So surely, you must--"

"I don't hear any voices!" Tseng exclaimed as he shot to his feet and slammed his hands down on the table. The loud sound completely riveted everyone's attention on him. "Quit asking me about the damn voices!" the Turk all but screamed as he stormed from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

The conference room went silent as those closest to the normally stoic commander exchanged gazes. Reno's mouth gaped open, the toothpick he had been chewing on just seconds earlier fell from his lips, only to clatter on the tabletop. Rude raised a brow and took off his sunglasses, as if checking to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Elena gasped quietly and brought a hand to her mouth, unsure of what to make of that little display, while Reeve watched his friend and confidant exit from the room with a surprised expression on his face.

The other members of their group, animas included, shifted uncomfortably, eyes watching each other over the large table. It was a highly uncharacteristic move on Tseng's part, and no one knew what to say or even think.

However, it was the ninja's voice that broke the silence. She gasped softly as she shook her head, a sudden look of understanding breaking out over her features.

"Oh, Kami… I didn't know," Yuffie said quietly. "We never should have put it that way." She was shot several questioning looks, but she ignored them for the moment.

The Turks traded glances with Reeve, wondering who would be the best to go after their strangely behaving leader. With a brief nod, the executive rose to his feet and disappeared out the door. It closed in a decidedly quieter fashion than it had with Tseng's exit.

Once he was gone, Reno and Rude also moved from their chairs, going to the door as if to prevent anyone else from leaving the room and affording their leader some privacy. Archer seemed insanely curious, chewing his lip in indecision as he tried to settle on whether or not he would actually get up to look. Yet, all in all, it was an almost deathly silent conference room.

In the hall, Tseng was leaning against the wall, as if trying to catch his breath, an almost manic gleam in his silvery gaze. His body trembled slightly as he gripped onto his chest with his hand, appearing as if he was trying to hold himself together physically. Reeve carefully approached the man that had become his closest confidante, outside of his lover, concern evident in his features.

"Are you alright?" he asked, keeping his voice soft.

The Wutaiian turned to look at him, a hard and unusual look to his face. It was nearly as cold as one of Vincent's stares and just as frightening. There was something in his expression, something nameless. Nevertheless, it only served to chill Reeve completely, and he shivered involuntarily.

(… block… for the sake…)

"What the fuck do you think?" Tseng's voice was thin, crisp, and clipped, as if he was only speaking out of necessity and barely restrained politeness. It was almost like he was hanging by a thin thread, and the slightest push would cause him to snap.

Though tempted to say something sarcastic, Reeve was more upset by the fact he couldn't recall his friend acting in such a way before. He would expect something like this from Reno and Vincent and perhaps from Cid, too. Yet, the executive had never seen Tseng anything but calm and collected, even in the face of battle and when he had been on death's doorstop a few months previous.

"No, I don't think you are," Reeve replied simply, giving a negative shake. His amber eyes were studying the other man very intently, looking for any sign of… well, he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, but he would know it when he found it.

"Brilliant deduction," Tseng hissed as he pushed himself off of the wall and tried to side-step his way beyond the executive. It was almost as like he was running away, fleeing for fear of something. Perhaps he could just walk it off. It was already in the process of fading, so he should be fine in a few moments, his walls firmly in place. He just needed a moment of peace, and it would be fine. He just needed a moment to regain his balance.

However, before he could get far, the other man grabbed his arm, refusing to allow him to leave.

Reeve started, "Tseng--"

"Don't touch me," the Turk snarled very coldly, rage evident in his tone, as well as his expression. "Let go of me." He tugged on his arm in order to break the executive's hold, but Reeve was not relenting.

Back in the conference room, Barret was the first to make a comment. Though he could not hear what was being said outside the door, Tseng's actions were enough for him to say something. He eyed those gathered around the table before jerking his head in the direction of the door.

"You sure he's related to Yuffie and not Vincent?" the gun-armed man asked with an odd expression.

There was a general growl of annoyance around the table as Cid and the former Turk shot the dark-skinned man equally angry glares. The pilot reached out and slapped the rude, gun-armed man across the back of his head.

"Shut up, $#&!" ordered the blond, shaking his head in disgust. "You're too damn insensitive."

"Be quiet!" Rude bit out loudly, again startling everyone with more out of character actions. Silence fell across the table as the voices outside rose in volume.

Reeve shook his head, determination and concern fiercely evident in his amber eyes. "I will not. You aren't yourself, my friend," he replied gently.

Tseng's eyes narrowed and darkened with something that was more than anger, something more emotional and deeply hidden. It was a mystery that hadn't seen the light of day in quite some time.

"Let go," he ordered more firmly, dark hair sliding across his face as he attempted to jerk away. Yet, Reeve was a lot stronger than he looked, holding fast.

The two Turk partners traded glances in the doorway, able to hear every word that was said between the other pair. The red-haired man felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He feared a fight, recognizing the tone in their leader's voice, and it was a dangerous one. Unlike Reeve, he had seen Tseng like this before, just once.

And the memory only caused him to tremble. Reno didn't care to remember that particular night five… almost six years previous. Yet, even now he could recall it with clarity. He could envision the flash of rage crossing his boss' eyes, hear the man snarl, see him shake with some nameless emotion before he stalked out of the ShinRa building and to the very worst part of the slums. The Wutaiian had remained there the entire night, fiercely fighting and savagely slaying all the monsters he found.

Reno could still hear their screams ringing in his ears sometimes, especially when he recalled how he had watched his friend scream at them, flinging out spells for all he was worth, and slashing at them with his katanas. He still remembered how he had wished Rude was there with them instead of away on a mission in Rocket Town. He still recalled the aftermath, when he had dragged his boss from the debris and had all but carried a bleeding and worn Tseng back to his apartment, patching him up as best he could so that they could actually go on assignment the following morning. He remembered that it had been a truly horrible night, one with his stomach twisted in on itself and with trepidation in his voice as he attempted to calm his friend with no success.

It was the same night they learned of Nibelheim.

"You are my friend," Reeve insisted, shattering his lover's recollections. "I won't until you tell me what's wrong."

Tseng clenched his fist, and the executive could feel the trembling within the Wutaiian's body. He was losing control, and that frightened the President more than anything he had come across. The look in the Turk's eyes… Reeve had never seen him more haunted.

"Dammit, Reeve!" Tseng screamed, his voice echoing along the empty hall. "You don't understand!"

For a moment, the executive took a step back, though he did not release his grip on Tseng's arm. The unusual high pitch to his voice, the desperation in his words, and the desire to escape were all there, and the other man did not understand. A strange look crossed Reeve's face, and he was completely confounded by the Wutaiian's reactions.

Back in the conference room, Cloud was looking extremely puzzled. No one seemed willing to offer up an explanation as to what was going on. He looked to his wife, bewilderment plainly evident in her features.

Aeris traded unhappy frowns with the female Turk across the table. Elena was just as mystified as the rest of them, so the flower-girl took it upon herself to explain it to her husband.

Unwilling to say the words aloud and break the unnatural silence that had developed, she mouthed, "nervous breakdown" to him, hoping he would understand. That was the best explanation she could come up with, at any rate.

Elena noticed the exchange and nodded in agreement, the reasoning making perfect sense to her. The past six months had been hard on everyone, despite the peace, and with recent events, it was obvious their Turk commander had been stretched to his limits.

His near death, especially at the hands of a former ally, had bothered him a great deal, but apparently, even more so than he had let on. Not only that, but the Wutaiian had basically been elevated to the Vice Presidency of ShinRa before he had even fully recovered. He had taken on a great deal then, just as much or more than Reeve had, now filling in for both Heidegger and Scarlet. And just as with the executive, Tseng didn't really like to delegate. Then, there were his original Turk duties, which Reno somewhat covered for him, and the additional tasks of increasing security after Tifa's threats, tracking down who was behind it all in the first place, cleaning up Hojo's leftovers, going through the mad scientist's projects, and about ten thousand other things.

Elena had wondered about the amount of work Tseng had been doing, but she hadn't really been sure how to broach the subject to him. Further, there weren't many others left to delegate to… at least, not many they trusted. Reeve had been swamped as had Reno. Rude helped them as much as he could, but he had his wife and unborn child to worry about, not to mention helping Shera, Cid, and Archer get their business off the ground. The female Turk herself had little additional time or energy to undertake more tasks, so basically, Tseng had been forced to keep doing it all himself.

Despite her turbulent recollections, Elena was soon dragged back to reality as she heard another shout from the hallway with the follow-up "you see, he is having a breakdown" glance Aeris gave her husband.

Barret also noted the exchange but didn't have enough tact not to comment aloud or even keep it to himself. "Really?" he questioned with surprise, looking between the two women. He shook his head. "I would have thought Reeve would have been the first ta go, considerin' the pressure and all."

Though not willing to say it aloud, Reno couldn't help thinking along the same lines. However, his mind soon drifted along a similar path Elena's had earlier taken, and he couldn't help but reconsider. Tseng had taken on a lot lately, and he had been acting increasingly testy also, if the redhead recalled correctly. It hadn't gotten too out of hand until Sephiroth had shown up, so Reno had originally put it to that. But now, he wasn't entirely sure.

In turn, the former General sat still and silent, unsure if it was really his place to say anything at all. Sephiroth was worried for his friend… or would it be former friend? Regardless, the man didn't think he should express as much. Some present were still angry with him, the little ninja included. He could feel Zack's eyes on him, watching him cautiously, as if expecting something, but he ignored the dark-haired man. Sephiroth pretended as though he couldn't feel the stares, just as he pretended that he was not in the conference room with the tense atmosphere.

Yet, despite Barret's snotty comments, Aeris' speculations, Cloud's confusion, Sephiroth's uncertainty, Reno and Elena's deepening fears…

Despite all of that, it was Yuffie that understood what was really happening. But she was still too shocked by what she had learned to say anything. It had never occurred to her before. She had never thought that Tseng would be… _like that_, like her mom, and it startled the ninja in a way nothing else ever could. So she just sat quietly, listening to her cousin, her heart breaking right along with his.

"What don't I understand?" Reeve asked gently, almost pleading with his friend.

Tseng shook his head, turning away from the executive. "You couldn't. You don't understand," he pleaded as he attempted to pull himself free, managing to move just one step.

It was then that Reeve realized that his friend was shaking, quivering so violently that the executive's eyes widened in surprise. Tseng was trembling like a child, and Tseng never trembled. He never quaked or shook. Tseng was always in control.

"Just let me go… please." The Wutaiian's voice was very small then. "Just… don't touch me. I can't focus with you touching me."

"What don't I understand," Reeve repeated, a tiny trace of fear creeping into his heart, even as another chill went down his spine. "Is it about the anima?"

Tseng's jaw worked, as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. Silence descended in the hallway, and it was only punctuated by the Turk's labored breathing.

In the conference room, it was quickly becoming obvious that the only one that could offer up an explanation was Yuffie. And she was beginning to act just like Tseng, which only baffled her friends, including Nanaki. As the pair conversed in the hall, Yuffie's keen ears could hear every part of their conversation, and she knew without a doubt exactly what was going on. She knew that she had guessed it right in the beginning.

Her revelations hit her like a ton of bricks and sent a stab through her chest. Yet, she couldn't face the inquisitive gazes of her friends since Tseng was right. He was absolutely correct. They wouldn't understand. They _could_ never understand. None of them could possibly comprehend it: the fear, the pain, the humiliation, the way he had been forced to hide his entire life. They couldn't understand how he had hidden himself away, let part of himself die… just to be safe.

The girl lowered her head to the table, putting it in her hands as she tried to hide her reaction. She had never known. Tseng had never told her, not that they had had a chance to be close since his parents and he were exiled before she had even been born. She had never had the chance to meet him until after Meteor, and then, they had both been so busy. In truth, Yuffie hadn't really known how to go about it. She had want to, and not just because her father had forbidden it, but she couldn't figure out how to approach him.

Even now, the ninja could feel the eyes of her friends on her but refused to look up. Her body began to tremble on its own as she empathized with her cousin's pain, her chest tightened as she imagined what he had gone through, what he had been forced to do to keep himself safe. She could only imagine what Hojo would have done to Tseng had the madman known, and Yuffie sincerely hoped that the bastard had never realized the prize that had been so easily within his reach.

The little ninja shivered again, thinking about her cousin. She had never known.

It was the lion wolf that first noticed his friend's distress. He belatedly recalled her earlier teasing of the Turk, remembered that the two were related. Yet, he hadn't thought they were that close; he hadn't even realized Yuffie was on actual speaking terms with the exile outside of AVALANCHE get-togethers. He narrowed his golden eyes in concern as he gently laid a paw on his best friend's thigh. Nanaki could feel her body trembling beneath his claws and feared that she was crying. He just didn't understand why?

Worry crept into every part of him.

"What's going on, brat?" Cid asked, the first to break the quiet that seemed to have stretched across the entire room. His tact left much to be desired, but then again, it wasn't necessary.

All eyes turned towards the distressed ninja.

Nevertheless, the Wutaiian did not answer, merely shaking her head against her hands as she felt her throat close up. She could imagine the pain and solitude that her cousin must have suffered living every day in fear, terrified that someone would discover his secret and ostracize him, or worse… tell his employers.

"Yuffie?" Cloud's voice this time, surprisingly gentle for him. "You know something that we don't. We're all in the dark here." He shrugged helplessly. 'What is it?"

"Please," Aeris added in for good reason, "we only want to help."

The ninja looked up from the table, and for the first time, everyone could see the pained look on her face and how her eyes seemed to swim with unshed tears. Like Tseng's uncharacteristic explosion, seeing the ninja girl like that was also vastly unusual. It deeply shocked everyone there.

"Yuffie?" Nanaki coaxed gently, nosing her shoulder with his snout and trying to comfort her. She turned her eyes his direction, almost mechanically. "What don't we know?"

The ninja swallowed thickly. They wouldn't understand, but neither did Tseng… and that was what was so disheartening. It had been so ingrained in him, the fear and such. He didn't think that anyone else would react in a positive way. He didn't think anyone _could_ react positively. These people were their friends. They wouldn't judge, but Tseng couldn't see that. All he could see were the questions, the accusations. It must have been like a direct flashback to him. She wasn't even alive when he and his family had been exiled, but her mother had whispered the story to her in the dead of night, when no one else had been around to hear. Later, her father had also, the one time she had been brave enough to ask about her aunt and cousin, and she had not dared to ever do so again.

Other than her father, Tseng was her closest living relative. In fact, due to the war, they were the only two people she shared enough blood with to be legally related, even if she used the lax standards of Cosmo Canyon where people were blood-kin if they shared a single great, great, great grandparent. Yet, even considering all this, her father's anger over the Turk and his situation were enough to keep even her from asking ever again. By Kami, as soon as he had realized that the Tseng that was now helping head ShinRa was one and the same with his disowned nephew, Godo had forbidden her from even coming within fifty feet of the company's headquarters. He would have an aneurysm if he learned that she had been in the same room as the Turk Commander… that she had actually spoken with him.

And this thought only seemed to choke her up more. Tseng was her cousin, her family. Yet, her own father, who perfectly well knew the situation, had forbidden her from seeking him out.

It was in that moment, the little ninja knew for certain her friends could never possibly understand.

Yuffie wanted to tell them, but she couldn't. She simply opened her mouth to tell them to back off, when she heard something that broke her heart even more, shattering it into pieces. She began to cry, knowing exactly to what and to whom Tseng was referring.

"Look," Reeve said, his voice carrying in from the hallway. "We know it has to be you. You are the only one left. We know you are hearing them." His tone was insistent but gentle, confusion laced into every word.

Tseng shook his head, eyes closed as he started to mutter something under his breath. The words were barely coherent to Reeve and bordering on the edge of madness. They sent another chill down his spine.

"I don't hear them. I swear I don't. I'm not like her!"

The words were like a mantra, mixed in with more unintelligible muttering as Tseng started to rub on his forehead, just over the jewel that was as much a part of him as his dark hair and silvery eyes. It appeared that he wasn't even really listening to the executive anymore.

"Like who?" Reeve frowned in bewilderment.

Were there more? Others who could speak to their anima and animus? After all, Bugenhagen had one, but he was not a fighter. Yet, the others, Erebus, had said that there were only a couple left.

"Who are you talking about?" the executive wondered aloud.

Tseng shook his head wildly, dark hair all over the place. "No, no, no," he denied loudly, with each spoken word his voice rising in volume. "I'm not like her! I'm NOTHING like her." The last was nearly a shout until his voice cracked and suddenly dropped in until it was barely louder than a whisper. "I don't hear them," he choked out. "I don't… I swear I don't." His eyes burned, and Tseng knew he was only seconds from crying, something he hadn't done since he was a boy… since his mother had died less than a year after their exile.

Amber eyes were bewildered as his normally stoic friend, a man he had relied on for being as solid as a diamond, started to mumble incoherently, all rationale departing from his persona. Never had he seen Tseng react to ANYTHING in such an adverse manner. Here, the man was shaking and muttering, and there was nothing it seemed that he, Reeve, could say to draw his friend out. It was a situation in which he felt helpless since people like Tseng did NOT just suddenly have psychotic episodes for no apparent reason.

There was something. He just didn't know what.

"Please, Kami… just let me go," the Turk muttered as he weakly pulled on his arm, still trying to break free. His attempts were only half-hearted, his mind elsewhere. "I'm nothing like them." His hand tugged lightly on his own hair as his eyes prickled again, and he could barely hold in the tears.

'There's more?' Reeve questioned in his mind. 'How much more? What other people on Gaia were strong enough? What if they had to fight them?' He gripped the Turk's arm with a bit more force, trying to compel the silver-eyed man to lock gazes with him.

"Dammit, Tseng! Listen to me! Who is it?"

"_Listen to me!_" The words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't take anymore.

"My mother and her sister!" the Turk roared, a spark of fire still in him. "I'm not like them!" He broke then, the tears he had battled against fighting free. One hand reached for support as he started to weep without restraint, sagging against the wall. He jerked his fingers from Reeve's now numb grasp and covered his face, body slowly sinking down to the floor.

"Please, don't make me go." The last sentence was a plea.

In the conference room, shocked looks were exchanged across the table as Yuffie refused to speak a word, the final shout she heard being the last she could endure. Tears flowed freely, almost mimicking her cousin's actions as she wept. The three remaining Turks all shared glances in a seemingly unspoken agreement as Elena stood up from the table and moved to the door where Rude and Reno were standing.

Out in the corridor, Reeve attempted to catch his friend before he hurt himself, slowly lowering him down gently. He was at a complete loss, never having much experience dealing with mental breakdowns. He heard the door open and looked up to find the other Turks coming out into the hall. They tried to close the door behind them but were unable to because now Cloud and Barret stood there as well. As Tseng cried in his arms, Reeve's eyes pleadingly sought theirs, wondering what he should do.

Reno nodded in understanding and moved to his boss' side, slipping an arm under the weeping Turk's shoulder as his former partner moved to Tseng's other side. Together, the two lifted him up and carried him down the hall, utterly surprised by the utter limpness to his body. Elena followed in their wake, worrying her lip and directing them towards the resting room just outside the President's office.

Shaking his head, Reeve rose from the floor to follow them, but Barret's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Nuh-uh, Mr. ShinRa, you're staying and explaining."

The executive sighed as he watched the entire contingent of Turks tread down the hall, realizing there was nothing further he could do. He exhaled heavily before trudging back into the conference room. Cloud and Barret followed close behind, though the blond had yet to say anything.

Inside, there was silence as Aeris and Nanaki tried to calm their weeping friend, and the others were just as flabbergasted as Reeve. Ever the tactful one, Archer was the first to speak as the President collapsed into his chair and rubbed at his temples in a gesture very reminiscent of Tseng.

"What was that, Reeve?" the engineer asked with very wide, amethyst eyes.

The other man shook his head, still hoping to divert the headache he knew was sure to come. "I don't know," he said after a moment.

Cid raised an eyebrow. "The hell? You were out there!" he argued.

"I don't know!" the executive snapped louder, on the verge of getting upset himself.

His shoulders were drawn tight with stress, and he was worried for a man that was his friend, who had become an even closer one in the past six months. Calm, quiet, dependable, steadfast Tseng: the same man that helped him with the heavy weight of running ShinRa company, the same person Reeve dumped all of his Reno worries on… even now, the Turk was weeping like a lost child, and that frightened the executive in a way he hadn't thought possible. The fact that he couldn't help only seemed to make the situation even worse.

"You wouldn't understand," Yuffie interrupted, her quiet voice easily slicing through the unnecessary tension.

Aeris rubbed a soothing circle on the sniffling ninja's back. "What wouldn't we understand?" she asked gently.

"Try us," Vincent added in.

Yuffie sighed, teetering on the edge. However, in her broken heart, she knew that she needed to at least get it out there. They'd just have to sort it out themselves.

"I never knew that Tseng shared the same fate as his mother," the ninja said very simply, pausing for a moment afterwards. "That much was always left unclear when his immediate family were exiled before I was born." She hesitated again as she chewed on her lip.

Then, she took a deep breath before continuing, "There's a minority of Wutaiians that exhibit certain characteristics… powers, abilities that are unnatural," she stumbled over her choice of words but plowed on. "We don't know where it comes from. The numbers are so small that for the longest time they were considered only the most unholy of us, the ones fallen from Dao-Chao's grace. They were blasphemers. They were demons. They deserved death and nothing more." She shook her head, her hair sliding forward to cover her eyes.

"You can't possibly understand," Yuffie repeated softly. "You see, murderers and rapists, the very monsters of any society, were treated better… were shown more mercy than these people."

There was a collective gasp of astonishment from those around, prompting the girl to shake her head again.

"You don't..." She shook her head. "Wutaiian's have always been a superstitious and religious lot. It's a dangerous combination," she added as an afterthought. "If there was something we didn't understand, we feared it. And hearing voices, some that even tell the future, was definitely under the category of the mysterious. In fact, it's not unlike the way Aeris is with the Ancients, how she can hear them. Tseng's mother, my a-aunt" Yuffie stuttered over the title. "It was found out that she was hearing voices, and being who she was, they couldn't kill her. My grandfather just couldn't bring himself to execute his own daughter, so they were exiled." Her eyes had a very far away look to them.

"They could only ever step foot on our lands again on pain of death," the little ninja went on slowly, "and to remove the mark of the exile was death as well, but they were far too proud to even consider such a thing."

"'Don't make me go…'" Reeve murmured thoughtfully. He was speaking more to himself than any of the others. "That at least explains why Tseng pleaded for me not to make him go. I can't imagine the fear he must have suffered, especially being forced to ignore those voices all these years."

Vincent shook his head. "To act like that, he didn't just ignore them or pretend he could not hear them. That's an entirely different manner. Tseng acted like they did not exist at all," the gunman commented softly, more to himself than to them. "He shut off a part of himself, never even allowing the thought of such things to take root. He was cold and calculating… brilliant for that very reason alone, though it may have cost him his sanity," he continued thoughtfully, remembering well how it felt to have voices that were not his own in his head. And his voices had constantly spoke of bloodlust and killing. He didn't even want to think of the type of things the Turk heard from his.

Zack suddenly inhaled sharply. "Dammit… Hojo!"

"What! What the $#&! about him?" the pilot spit out.

The ex-SOLDIER elaborated, "Imagine trying to keep something like that from Hojo… or even the rest of ShinRa for that matter. Yet, Tseng managed to hide it so well that even his own friends didn't know!"

Archer nodded. "Yeah, just imagine what Hojo would have done if he'd known. To have that kind of gift… You have to admit, it's an ability with a lot of potential for some very bad things."

"So basically you mean to tell me that Tseng really can see the future?" Barret questioned.

Aeris shrugged. "Perhaps, but it would most likely be some form of telepathy. I believe that a number of the original Ancients had a natural affinity for it outside of what could be taught, so it would stand to reason that the same ability would show up in humans, too."

Cid snorted in denial. "Speaking of Ancient… it sure didn't help him in their $#&! Temple."

Everyone seemed stumped at that. However, it was Sephiroth's swift and audible intake of breath that broke their confusion and drew everyone's attention to him.

"It's the only reason he survived," the former General said with a soft shake of his head and a guilty look on his face

And it truly was.

Sephiroth remembered it well, having been forced to watch in horror. It had seemed Jenova was going to murder Tseng where he stood, straight through the back with no honor. Yet, at the last moment, the Wutaiian had jerked away, just barely missing the killing blow.

Tseng hadn't been saved by blind luck. He had lived because, for once, he had actually listened.

------

"They were screaming at me," muttered Tseng as he lay in a curled ball on the bed in the resting room.

The other Turks were around him, listening in silence as he mostly talked to himself. They were confused and hated seeing their boss in his current position, but they wouldn't leave him alone. Even now, they sat next to his bed, his back to them. Reno was directly behind his boss, his hand on his friend's back rubbing small circle. Rude was to his left, sitting there quietly, not at all certain what to do. Elena was on the redhead's right, her fingers trailing through Tseng's downy and oh-so-soft hair, gently smoothing it out.

Tseng, in turn, simply laid there, mumbling to himself.

"You're going to die. You must go now; you must leave. Get out of here! Death, can't you taste it? It's there, just hovering. Leave! Move! Listen to us! You're going to die!"

He kept his back to them, not willing to let them see the look on his face: the wide-eyed and red-rimmed stare, the way he clutched at the blankets, nor did he want them to see his fear.

"I tried to ignore them, tried to pretend like I couldn't hear. I dismissed them as nothing but… nothing, but they were always there in the back of my mind: whispering, warning… helpless. In the Temple though, they were screaming death, and I listened. Oh, how I listened to the warning. It saved my life, but still, I pretended like they weren't there. Still, I dismissed their presence and now… exile." His voice trailed off into a low mumble as sleep slowly overcame him, exhaustion winning out over his strange psychotic episode.

The Turks exchanged worried looks.

"You think the boss will be alright, yo?" Reno questioned, his voice quite and not boisterous as usual.

Elena shook her head as she rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "I didn't ever think he would crack, but it all makes sense now."

Rude nodded in his silent way. "We always thought he was just brilliant. We got into impossible situations and always seemed to come out alive. It was like he knew what the enemy had planned, knew of the traps ahead of time. He always seemed to know exactly what they were thinking."

"He had seen the future," Elena whispered with a nod of her head. "I can't imagine what he had gone through, thinking that he was an abomination for doing so."

The dark-skinned man nodded. "We'll let him rest for now. Maybe when he wakes up he'll feel more inclined to talking." He eyed his partner. "And I know you will have enough tact not to tease him."

Reno shrugged, a slight grin creeping onto his face. "Please, Rude, give me more credit than that. I'm not a complete moron."

"That's up for debate." Elena snickered. She received a sour glare in return.

----

Review please! I'm worried by the lack of reviews and hits that no one's interested anymore. For those that are reading, THANK YOU. It is for you that I continue to post.


	41. Listen

Thanks to readers and reviewers! One person told me they were reading, so for them I am posting. Thanks!

**Chapter 41: Listen**

Zack wasn't sure when he acquired an affinity for high places. Not that he enjoyed flying like Cid or anything like that. He just appreciated being somewhere up above the masses, which was why he was found sitting on the ledge of the roof of the ShinRa building, feet dangling over the edge. The roof was still blackened from the blast earlier and smelled of sulfur, but the fresh breeze from the high winds was enough for him.

For one of the first times in his life, he had sought solitude, to think of the events that had occurred over the past few days.

It was sunset, that much he could see from his perch. He looked over the entire city, calmed by the scenery. The crumpled and blasted buildings were like grave markers for the fallen metropolis, but they weren't what captivated his attention. It was the changing colors of the sky with the setting sun that he enjoyed.

But still, it didn't do much to calm the pain in his heart. His parents were dead before he ever got a chance to tell them goodbye, much like the first time. There were few people that he truly cared for in the world, despite his cheery attitude and ability to make friends with just about anyone. He had a skill for that, bringing others to his side and seeing what each person needed. Yet, very few people had been able to get absolutely close to him.

Sephiroth was one of the first to actually see him, if that made any sense. His cheerful and carefree attitude was one of many masks, and the former General had been the one to see that. Of course, it hadn't been easy getting past Sephiroth's walls and masks either.

The smallish and needy Cloud had also been someone Zack had been close to, probably because he felt the boy needed looking after. In a way, the blond reminded Zack of himself before he became the happy guy that everyone knew him to be.

And then, there were his parents of course... his true ones, not the ones that were blood-related. His mother was always kind and funny with a sharp wit. His father, Lexas Loire… the one who had adopted him and not his sperm donor, had been very kind also and rather noble. Despite their lack of common blood, Zack had gladly taken Lexas' name and accepted him as his father, hating the man that had made his mother cry, that had made his life as a child a living hell. The ex-SOLDIER would never forget the honorable man, Lexas, who had saved his mother and from he their hellish existence.

Now, they were dead, both of them. According to Vincent, they were victims of a demon's rage because the monsters were searching for him. He wasn't surprised to find that his parents had taken in a stranger, caring for him. It was just the type of people that they were, and the thought made him smile.

He had seen guilt in Vincent's eyes, but he didn't blame the gunman at all. The ex-Turk couldn't have known what was going to happen and had done his best to prevent the complete destruction of Gongaga. Not to mention the fact that Vincent had completely lost his memory. In truth, Zack was glad that the ex-Turk had given his parents hope for even a moment, even though he knew that they had realized Vincent was not their son.

He wondered what he would do now with this second chance at life. When the world was saved, he was certain that was what was going to happen, how would he continue his life? Would the Planet return him to the Lifestream after their victory? Or could he dare think to try and live?

The former ShinRa mused on what his purpose would be after the fight. Would he be able to find love, like his friend?

He smirked at the thought.

Sephiroth did not even know it yet, but he could already see it. The truth had been there since before Nibelheim, but the former General had not been able to understand it. Sephiroth was oblivious to things like that. No, wait, maybe oblivious wasn't the right term. It was more like the silver-haired man noticed but wasn't sure what he was seeing. He just couldn't fathom such things. Although with his upbringing, it was rather understandable.

"Still tempting the fates, I see," came a smooth and deep voice, one that Zack recognized easily. He didn't even have to turn to see who it was.

'Well, speak of the devil,' the ex-SOLDIER thought. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips.

"I'm not in any danger," Zack put in out loud. "You're the one that's afraid of the edge," he teased.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his best friend sit down beside him, leather clad leg swinging over the edge as he brought the foot of the other to lay on the edge. One leather clad arm leaned on it, dark silver-streaked hair shifting into view.

"I am cautious," Sephiroth said as he turned to face the other man. "There's a difference."

They were at least fifteen stories up, not that it seemed to bother either one of them. Both simply sat, staring out into the distance.

Zack grinned, lightly punching the former General in the shoulder. "So you say."

Sephiroth shrugged before again turning his gaze to the rapidly setting sun, the sky already a dark purple and orange with the fading light. His hair fell across his face, and he absentmindedly brushed it back.

"You used to find high places when you wanted to be alone and brood," Seraph inserted slowly. "Has that changed?"

Zack raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to be alone." He paused, as if something had just occurred to him. "Why are you here?"

"Do you want me to leave?" the other man inquired with a hint of sadness.

The spiky-haired man shifted his position, bringing up one knee so that he mimicked his companion's stance. "Nah, it's good, but you're right. I came here to brood."

"I won't pry," Sephiroth responded easily enough. "I will just sit here in silence."

And so they did for a time. The pair sat quietly, just admiring the forces of nature around them. It was a companionable moment between two friends. However, it was soon broken, and Zack was the first to speak again.

"Will you tell me what happened? Five years ago?"

Sephiroth went still at the question, silent for so long that his friend began to regret asking the painful question. He opened his mouth to tell his companion that he didn't have to say anything when the former General finally spoke.

"Can you imagine," Sephiroth began slowly as he brought his right hand up in front of him, "what it feels like to realize your life is the result of a lab experiment?" His eyes were distant and clouded.

Slowly, he pulled off his leather glove, a thing that he rarely removed. On the back of his hand, there was a symbol, printed in dark, black ink. It was simple really, a stylized version of the number zero, but to Sephiroth, it was a source of much rage and heartache.

He paused for a moment, but Zack had nothing to say not interrupting. He had seen the tattoo before, one time and completely on accident. However, he had never questioned Sephiroth, knowing just how private the man could be.

"I've had this tattoo all my life," the former General went on faintly, rubbing a thumb over the black ink before putting his glove back on. "As well as, constant visits to my father… I mean, Hojo's lab." Sephiroth laughed then, and it was a bitter sound. "He told me I had an illness only he could cure. I never knew that the illness was really a pseudonym for the alien Jenova, which coursed through my veins."

Zack nodded sympathetically. "I, too, have been under the madman's knife. It's a none too pleasant experience." He thought back to those four years when he had been in Hojo's captivity along with Cloud after the Nibelheim incident. He recalled the needles and the blood, the unspeakable horrors. The thought alone made him shudder, and it was a motion that Sephiroth did not fail to notice.

"I had begun to wonder before we went to the reactor and saw all those monsters in the tubes. I knew something was different about me; something was wrong, but I didn't know what." He exhaled, staring at the almost disappeared sun. Sephiroth absentmindedly ran his hand over his arm, ghosting over the still lingering scars left by Hojo. They were from experiments so bloody that not even Jenova could fully heal them.

"Then, we found the name Jenova over the experiment, and my curiosity grew into obsession," the former General carried on. "I had to know. I couldn't keep wondering about the truth of my heritage." He exhaled again.

"In the basement laboratory beneath the ShinRa mansion, I discovered all I needed to know, more than I ever wanted to know," Sephiroth stated, his voice oddly neutral, as though he were relating nothing more personal than the weather. "I suspected but never anything like that. No matter what I had thought, I still wasn't prepared to deal with it. It was just too much." The General shook his head. "And in my moment of anger and distress… weakness, Jenova began speaking to me."

He looked up, pained eyes meeting crystalline blue. "It was me – me alone that burned Nibelheim to the ground, murdered the residents, attacked Cloud and you… dove into the Lifestream." Seraph hesitated. "Those were my choices. And for that, I am sorry." The hurt and regret were evident in his eyes.

Zack shook his head. "You may say that it was you, but even I could tell that something was wrong. Who's to say they would react in a normal matter if they ever found out that their life was anything but normal." He stared out over at the fading lights of the sunset. "I know I'd have been furious."

Sephiroth nodded. "Fury was only one of my many emotions. Disgust, hatred, bloodlust were all swirling about within me. Perhaps if I had gone to you rather than listening to Jenova's seductive whispers, I might have acted differently." He trembled faintly, fighting his way from might-have-beens. Zack laid a hand on his arm suddenly, causing his eyes to flicker to his friend.

"Yet, she spoke of vengeance and destroying that which caused my pain," Sephiroth continued after a moment. "Nibelheim and its residents were my first target and then, the rest of ShinRa. If it hadn't been for Cloud and you attempting to stop me, who knows what else I may have done," he confessed. "Afterwards, when I was finally starting to realize what I had done, Jenova quickly convinced me to leap into the mako of the reactor."

"She had deafened you to me," Zack inserted. "That bitch..." he trailed off, gloved hand curling into a fist.

The former General merely inclined its head in understanding. "I never would have hurt you in my right mind." It seemed he kept repeating that fact. "I never wanted to hurt anyone that I care for." His eyes fell on that sudden confession, his thoughts going back to all he had harmed. One face in particular whipped through his mind, one who's fate had barely been saved.

Zack grinned slightly, giving a light tap to his friend's shoulder. "I knew it," he teased. "You always had a thing for dark-haired men." He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

Sephiroth flushed deeply, and he was soon horrified to discover that his face flamed with embarrassment at his friend's suggestive words. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the blushing as he sought words for the proper come back. Yet, before he could respond, the emotions on the swordsman's face changed from teasing to grim.

"I wonder if he will be alright," Zack questioned aloud. He was referring to the Turk Commander and the man's strange outburst from earlier that day. Tseng had been resting since then, his fellow Turks never leaving his side.

The mossy-eyed male frowned, idly looking at his gloved hand again, the one that hid his bizarre tattoo. "I can sympathize with his plight," he commented. "It is not something that is easily dealt with."

The other man nodded but didn't say anything. He simply wrapped his arm on his friend's shoulder, giving him a one-armed but much needed embrace.

The sound of the roof top door clicking shut alerted the pair to the fact that they were no longer alone, and a cheerful voice rang out as they were approached by their visitor.

"I see you still have an affinity for the high places," commented Aeris, moving until she stood between the two males, laying a friendly chin on Zack's shoulder.

The dark-haired man grinned, jerking a thumb towards the former General. "That is the same thing Sephiroth said. You guys strangely think alike."

The flower-girl laughed. "We just know you well; that is all."

Zack rubbed the back of his head with his hand and sighed, though a smile was definitely on his face. "A man has no secrets any longer."

Sephiroth shrugged. "It's not as if you can keep anything quiet. You always were a blabbermouth… and predictable as well."

"Geez. What is this, pick on Zack day? If it's not you two, then it's that blonde Turk always degrading my skills."

"Poor Zack," murmured the lone female, patting him soothingly on the back. Then, a bright smile appeared on her face. "Oh well. Come on, you guys; we've got to get back to the conference room. We have to finish discussing everything."

Sephiroth frowned. "Has Tseng awoken?"

Aeris shook her head. "I'm not sure. The Turks are really close knit. They won't let anyone but Reeve in to see him. Though, I can understand, especially given the situation."

The spiky-haired man slung his legs around and rose to his feet stretching languidly with a loud yawn accompanying. "Well, let's go then. More boring conversation, ahoy."

The laughter of his friends followed him.

----

Silvery eyes fluttered open, and he found that he was facing a most familiar and rather plain, white wall across the other side of an empty bed. It was not unlike the one in the resting room of ShinRa Corporation. He blinked blearily, his entire body feeling tired. It was then that he noticed his throat was raw, and his eyes felt blood shot, as if he had been crying. He hadn't done that in years. Not since...

The memories came flooding back in a torrent and he had to stifle a groan. He had snapped... truly snapped. He couldn't believe he had shown that part of himself to everyone and now, they all knew his secret. That which he had been trying to hide so hard had now come to light. He wondered what they thought of him.

The slight murmur of voices behind him alerted the man to the fact he was not alone. He could distinctly hear Reno's slow drawl and Rude's quiet answer. The smell of gun oil let him know that Elena was there as well.

He was surprised that they had not deserted him. Why were they still here? Didn't they think him an abomination?

He was still reluctant to roll over, beginning to feel the slight burn of shame on his face. He had acted in a manner most unbecoming to someone like him. He didn't want to see them after what had happened; he didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

(They are your friends,) came a voice in his mind. (They would not think ill of you.)

There it was again. It was the same voice that had tormented him not only the entire day before but also for several months. It was the one he had been pushing aside, along with others all his life, the one that had brought him many migraines, the one that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard he tried.

He grimaced and closed his eyes, trying to push away the unwelcome guest. 'Go away,' he returned. 'I don't want this. I do not want you here.'

(Have you not learned yet? You are not your mother, my child. This is not Wutai, and I am no ordinary voice!)

Tseng furrowed his brow and concentrated wholly on his mental walls, the ones he had built through the years to block out the whispers in his mind. He slammed up the barriers, hearing them ringing with a finality in his mind, and the voice was cut off. The protests filtered down to a low trickle and then... nothing.

Peaceful, blissful... and sane silence.

The bed creaked as someone sat beside him, a hand threading gentle fingers through his hair. "You might as well turn and face us," came the distinctly familiar voice of Elena. "We all detected your change in breathing." She laughed lightly. "After all, you did train us."

It hurt to say it, but he had to ask. "I am considering why you all have not yet deserted me."

A derisive snort was his answer. He recognized the sound as only belonging to Reno. "You might be half off your rocker, but you're still our boss, yo. After all, we ain't all there ourselves, ya know?"

There was a slight and stifled "Ow!" that followed that statement, most likely because Rude had elbowed his itinerant former partner.

"Reno is right, idiot he may be," the sole female added in. "We may not understand what's going on, but we all admire you, boss. And although we work under you, we also consider you a friend. Desertion is not part of our code."

Tseng had to fight back the choking feeling in his throat.

Friends, huh?

When was the last time he had ever allowed himself close enough to someone to consider them his true friends? He had always thought of those nearest to him as his acquaintances, but he had kept even Reeve at a safe distance. It was better that way… and far less painful. No one knew his secrets, and it was safer that way. But now, perhaps he could be allowed that luxury.

He was far from accepting the voices, and still mourned the loss of his home land, distant memory though it was. Yet, maybe, just maybe he might be able to adjust.

"What do you wish to know?" he inquired quietly.

"Nothing you don't want to tell us," came Rude's response. "We trust you, sir."

The room fell into an easy silence as Tseng considered his statement. He wondered if he was ready to just explain it all: the fear and the worry, what he had been hiding, and the truth of the matter. However, he knew in his heart that he was not. To say it aloud would make it real, to say it aloud meant he would have to confront the voices and accept them. He would have to listen and understand.

And Tseng wasn't ready for that.

He moved to sit up, Elena's hands removing themselves from his hair. He slid off the bed and fixed his clothing, smoothing down mussed hair and wrinkles as he kept his back to his subordinates. He heard the bed creak as the blonde female left the bed as well.

They waited for him to make a move, for him to say something. He was instantly proud to be their commander, prouder than he had ever been as a member of the old ShinRa. He was glad for the opportunity he had and that fortune had brought him such wonderful friends. For the first time in his life, and for only the briefest of moments, Tseng was glad that he had been exiled. Yet, the feeling was fleeting as he also realized what all he had lost.

He turned around then, finally feeling back to his old form, and he eyed his subordinates carefully. "Has the meeting ended then?" the Wutaiian questioned.

Rude shook his head. "They stopped it after… the incident," he put in smoothly, barely hesitating over his word choice. "I believe it restarted about ten minutes ago."

"Then, we had best be going," Tseng commented, gracefully stepping around the side of the bed. "We are late already."

"Yes, sir," commented the other three with snapping feet and a salute. It was a comforting gesture to the Wutaiian Turk. He walked past them, heading for the door, missing the secretive smiles the trio shared.

-----

"Where is Balaam, then? If, in fact, we are going to try and stop him," Cloud questioned, the first to speak as everyone returned to the conference room. Nevertheless, the absence of the Turks was very duly noted. No one was going to speak of it, however, not even the ever tactless Barret or Cid.

Erebus shook his head. All of the anima's were in attendance as well.

"No one knows. He's gone into hiding, presumably to regain his lost powers and body while he works out his plans," Vincent's anima stated slowly.

"Can't you just... I dunno, track him or something?" Cid asked, waving his hands. "Can't you all sense each other or some $#&! shit like that?"

"It's not like we were born with radar or something, yo." Asclepius giggled. Though her animus was not present, she was. The green-haired teenager sat in Reno's seat, occasionally twirling about in the chair, while Erebus gave her amused and secretly besotted looks.

Gilgamesh sighed and tossed his head. "We have no choice but to search for him. Literally, he could be hiding anywhere. His attacks have been varied and worldwide. It will be difficult to even pinpoint a direction from which they originated."

"Besides," added in Erebus. "Father is hiding his aura from us. Not even I can tell where he is. Remember who he is, the demi-god of Chaos. It is not a difficult task to confuse our senses."

Zack mused thoughtfully, but it was Sephiroth who questioned, for the first time drawing attention to himself. "When and where was the last time he attacked?" War tactics such as what they were discussing were his forte, being a former General and all. It was in such a discussion that he felt most comfortable.

"If the Bandragora attacking Wutai were by his orders, then that would have been the day before yesterday," Reeve responded with a frown to his face.

"He has only attacked major cities so far," added in Cid. "Cosmo Canyon, Neo-Midgar, Junon…" He ticked the locations off on his fingers. "It's as if he was trying to stop us before the war even began."

Erebus shook his head. "Not necessarily. He wants you to suffer; he wants all of us to suffer." He frowned as he thought on the rantings of his father, and his requests for his son to join him. "To fight him, you have to understand why he even started this war to begin with."

Yet, before anyone could even question, the door to the conference room clicked open, and the Turks began to file in one by one. Reno was the first to appear, quickly taking his place beside his lover and kicking Asclepius out of his seat. Behind him came Tseng, who was trying his best to look as sure of himself as he could. Nonetheless, he felt the weight of every gaze on him, and it made him uneasy.

He waited for the questions; he steeled himself for the prying wonderment. He had many answers already planned, though he wasn't sure if he could speak them. His tongue felt heavy, and his heart fluttered in his chest. To speak the truth after so long, it felt as if he was betraying a part of himself to do so. He didn't know if he could do it, if he was strong enough.

However, the questions never came. No one spoke a word as he took a seat between Reeve and Elena, the blonde patting his leg underneath the table. He could still feel the weight of every stare upon him, and somehow, the lack of questions only made it worse. It was almost as if they pitied him or feared for his sanity. He began to wonder which he would rather suffer: the questions or the pity.

Rude was the last to enter, taking the last available chair between Cid and Yuffie.

"Well," scoffed the pilot. "Now that the Turks are here, we can finally get to the real discussion." He wasn't being tactless, just reacting as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. He waved a hand at Vincent's anima, gesturing for him to continue.

"Right." Erebus nodded. "As I was saying, if you want to fight against Balaam, you have to realize the measures he will take… and just how badly he wants to win. You have to be prepared for anything because, I assure you, he believes that his reason for fighting is just as valid as your own."

They weren't going to say anything at all to him. Tseng realized this with a vague sort of detachment. His eyes slid to Yuffie, wondering if his cousin had revealed it all or if she had left them in the dark as well. With Erebus speaking again, most of the gazes had reverted to the demi-god, and no one was looking at him any longer, as though they were afraid to rock the boat. He frowned slightly, again questioning himself.

"What?" snorted Barret. "!$#& wants power, right? Or destruction or money or some fool ass $! like that, huh?"

Gilgamesh shook his head. "Nothing quite so vulgar or inane as such. He seeks something less trivial, something I have no doubt mortals have longed for as well, something they have fought and died for on many an occasion."

"What could that be?" Aeris asked breathlessly. "Surely as a demi-god he could have anything he ever wanted."

Vincent shook his head, speaking without being asked first for one of the few times since he had known AVALANCHE. "Freedom," he responded quietly. "For although they are given the greatest power in the world, they are bound by the chains of duty and promise."

To this, Erebus inclined his head. "You are correct. We demi-gods are given great powers, in varied areas, with tasks to watch over mortal-kind and delegate the wonders and elements of Gaia. But as with all power, it comes with a price. We have rules we must obey, restrictions that we must follow. Balaam envied the mortals for their choice since truly we have none."

"You speak blasphemy!" Ishvara uttered, shaking her head so that her blue hair floated behind her in a wave. There was a tone of chastisement in her voice. "To claim that these mortals have more than us, that we ENVY them!"

Gilgamesh rolled his eyes. "We are only speaking of the desires of Balaam's heart, not of all those present. But yes, in a way, I do think that we lack certain things. The freedom to chose as we see fit one of them." His gaze drifted to all those gathered." After all, I was borne from the chaos and given great power... but I can't use it in any way I chose."

"Then you would follow the path of your son?" Raijin questioned, wonderment in his tone.

"We are not having this discussion here!" uttered Seiryu in a voice tight with restraint. At this point, most of the mortals had begun to look upon their anima with great curiosity on their faces. "I will not have a repeat of the Conclave!" His voice was chastising but a tone that everyone thought to obey, much different than that of Ishvara's. The demi-gods and goddesses fell into silence.

There was a brief pause around the table as the mortals searched for something to say, surprised by the obviously unintentional outburst of the demi-deities.

"Very well then," Reeve began clearing his throat. Obviously, tensions were high and stress becoming a large factor, even causing normally stoic men to break out into fits of insanity. He forced himself not to look at Tseng at that thought.

"We obviously cannot stop Balaam until we know where to look." The executive turned towards the demi-gods. "How long until his power returns to him?"

"Since I have grown conscious of the events, his power has been slowed to a trickle," Vincent commented.

"I would say we have another month at the most," Seiryu answered with a slight frown. "Perhaps two weeks at the least, but we really cannot tell. It is not as if this sort of thing has happened before."

"Two weeks," Tseng murmured in amazement, shaking his head. It was the first he had spoken since returning to the conference room. "That does not give us any time to find him at all." All eyes shifted towards him, some with surprise registering on their features.

"What?" the Turk Commander queried testily, feeling impatience settling over him.

They sought to baby him, sought to shower him with pity just because of one outburst. He was a Turk… and Commander at that! This loss of respect, this pity, was more than he could handle. It hurt almost more than the questions would; it pained him with an intensity that surprised him, and he almost didn't realize it before he rose to his feet.

"You do not need to tiptoe around me," he commented, voice firm and not wavering in the slightest. "I am a Turk, one outburst will not change that. Ask your questions! I neither want nor desire your pity!" Those gathered shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating and intent gaze.

"Very well then," responded Cloud quietly. "If that's the way you want it." He paused, shooting Reeve a look before continuing. "Who is your other?"

The calmly asked question was not what Tseng had been prepared to answer. He sat slowly back into his seat, expecting a query about what had happened or if he was going to be alright, not something basically wondering whether or not he had decided to heed the voices.

"I do not know," the Turk replied slowly.

"But you are hearing his voice, yes?" Hephaestion questioned softly, the soothing tones enough to calm the Wutaiian's racing heart.

Tseng shook his head. "Not anymore," came his quiet answer. "I have blocked him out."

"Boss," replied Elena. "You should--"

He cut her off with a lifting of his hand before she could continue in her line of thought. "I am not ready to deal with these voices," he answered her. "It is hard to fight against years of pretending and repression. I cannot easily accept them. I am sorry, but... that is how it must be."

"Do not apologize," came Tiamat's reply. Silvery gaze met hers, and the look on the demi-goddess' face was soothing to Tseng. "We regret not understanding. Ort-... your other should have known better," she paused, brow furrowing in concentration. "In fact, I am surprised that at his age and wisdom, he did not."

Asclepius became indignant. "Hey! Father knew exactly what he was doing. You just wait and see."

A stern glare from Seiryu, and the little demi-goddess went silent, idly inching closer to Erebus. "Regardless, that is not up for discussion now. We must find Balaam; we haven't time to waste," spoke the big dragon.

Cloud nodded, rising to his feet. "Gaia is only so big," he intoned. There aren't that many places a demi-god and his army of denizens could be hiding. We will find him and destroy him before he can do any more harm."

For the briefest of moments, the blond wondered how it came so easily to him, the ability to lead and make decisions. He wondered why they were always so willing to put their lives in his hands and why they even listened to him. The man who had forgotten his past, borrowed some one else's, and once lusted after the greatest enemy they had ever faced… a man that was currently sitting at the table with them as well. Cloud hoped intently that he would always be worthy of that trust... and that he would never fail them, not like he had failed so long ago.

His eyes roamed over those before him, wondering which tasks he should assign to whom. Reeve would be needed to stay in Midgar and coordinate everything. Yuffie would probably want to return to Wutai and scope things out just as Nanaki would want to check on Cosmo Canyon. He still didn't entirely trust Sephiroth and wanted the man close. Someone was still needed for defensive measures in Midgar, and someone needed to start a global search. He sighed before delegating tasks.

"Cid, transportation duty as usual." He ignored the pilot's muttered and annoyed curses. "Reeve, coordination duties. Yuffie, you are to go to Wutai, and, Nanaki, to Cosmo Canyon. Sephiroth, you and Zack are to remain here… where either me or Tseng can keep an eye on you."

Wouldn't that be fun? He ignored Zack's entertained chuckle.

"Rude, you wouldn't want to stray too far from Shera, so stay here in Midgar and help fight down the remnants of monsters." The ex-SOLDIER paused, as if considering those remaining.

"I found a chip on one of the monsters," offered up Elena helpfully. "I'll get to inspecting that, I suppose."

"I will search with Cid aboard the Highwind," Vincent added quietly. "Perhaps I can sense Balaam where others cannot." He frowned. "I still feel an odd connection to him."

Cloud nodded. All that remained were Reno and Archer... and of course, Barret. Yet, the blond swordsman was still loathe to include the gun-armed man. He had wanted Barret to stay out of things to begin with, but the dark-skinned man was stubborn.

"Reno, Archer, surely one of you can drive a submarine?" the blond swordsman questioned, satisfied when both men nodded. "Perhaps you can search the underwater pathways. Barret, you can stay in Midgar as well."

"It sounds like you have this all figured out," Reeve commented.

Cloud nodded and prepared to respond, but Elena beat him to the punch, her statement coming completely out of nowhere.

"Well, this is all great and good," she replied with a slight smile before turning a devious eye on her red-haired fellow Turk and his lover. "But when is the wedding in the middle of all this?"

Reeve fidgeted under her stare as all eyes turned towards them. Reno, however, beamed brightly. "See, here's the thing," the President started out slowly, blanching under Elena's intent gaze.

"We're already married!" announced Reno loudly. "We eloped in Wutai!"

"What?" Aeris and Elena said together, their vision of a nice, big wedding dying a horrible death. The flower-girl sniffled, her hormones getting the best of her.

The blond Turk's jaw dropped in surprise. "But... all that planning!" she protested. "Everything Aeris and I worked so hard to accomplish!" Her brow furrowed... anger beginning to take over her shock. "How could you do this?" she demanded, as if it had been her own wedding to begin with.

Mrs. Strife chimed in, "After everything we've been through together, Reeve Tuesti!" The pregnant woman narrowed her gaze on the two men. "How could you?" she asked pleadingly.

"And you, Ichigo Reno!" Elena continued for her friend. "I'm sure this is all your doing!" She began to go off on a tangent then, Aeris joining her seconds later, spouting words the moment they reached her mind. Some were not even strung together in a coherent fashion.

"Now, Elena," Tseng chastised slowly, but even he was quieted by her furious glare.

Reno opened his mouth to speak and then shut it, convinced that his voice would only increase the female's ire. Beside him, Zack was struggling to contain his laughter as Sephiroth shook his head, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. Yuffie refused to hold it in, giggling her little head off as the two men shrunk under the combined might of Elena and Aeris. Cloud merely stared at the tabletop, trying to pretend that he wasn't there and it wasn't his wife going on an insane tirade.

It was a good five minutes later, after Zack had turned red from holding in his chuckles and finally exploded in gales of laughter and even Cloud had started to snicker, that the pair finally ran out of steam. The two woman dissolved into an exhale and final soft string of words. Everyone at the table was exchanging looks of bewilderment.

"Well," the flower-girl demanded with a sniffle. "What have you to say for yourselves?"

Reno and Reeve exchanged equal looks of fear. "We were still hoping to have the ceremony," said Reeve solemnly. "Unless of course, it would mean nothing to you now--"

Instantly, the blonde and brunette's faces brightened. All of their ire was thrown out the window.

"Well, in that case," Elena said. "I was thinking a blend of aquamarine and amber for your colors, what do you think?" she hastily asked her female cohort. Her chance in countenance was astounding.

All at once, everyone around the table burst out laughing, even Tseng and Sephiroth managing to join in with a slight chuckle. That alone eased the tension that had built within the room.

For the briefest of moments, everyone forgot about the lengthy tasks ahead of them.

----


	42. Mended Chains

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers!

**Chapter 42: Mended Chains**

Yuffie stood outside the conference room, fingering the chain in her pocket as she waited for Archer to exit. Once the laughter had ceased, Cloud had dismissed everyone to the tasks he had assigned. The ninja was supposed to be heading for Wutai, but there was something she had to do first.

Nanaki had been very downcast since their journey into the Gi Nattak cave for many reasons she could understand. Reality was a harsh truth, and as such, their relationship had suffered. She hoped to improve his demeanor and show him how much she cared with a gift.

She remembered from some random conversation that Archer was good at metalsmithing, one of his hobbies, or so he had claimed. So she sought his expertise to mend the chain that the monsters had broken. It might be just the thing to cheer up her morose friend.

She heard laughing seconds before Archer and Reno exited, the amethyst-eyed man shaking his head as if in disbelief. Yuffie took her chance, latching onto his arm and pulling him down the hall and around the corner before he could even put up a fuss. The red-haired Turk didn't even bother to protest, just calling out embarrassing things as they parted, causing the ninja's ears to burn red.

"I need a favor," she explained, releasing his arm once they were out of both sight and earshot. They stopped around the corner of the hall, and Yuffie put her hands on her hips.

He smirked. "I'm sorry, but you're just too young for me," he teased. "I can't in all good conscience take your maidenhood. I believe that is meant for someone else." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, as if she /should/ know just exactly who he was talking about.

She blushed furiously before punching his shoulder playfully. "I'm serious," she protested. "You know, that's not... what I want."

He winked but schooled his face into something more serious and less teasing. Archer leaned against the wall. "I'm listening."

Yuffie sighed, shaking her head before digging a hand into her pocket and removing the broken chain. "Can you fix this?" she asked hopefully. The teenager eyed the silver links mournfully before handing it to him.

He furrowed his brow as he inspected the necklace. "It shouldn't be that difficult," Archer mused. "The snapped link can be welded back together, and it needs a good polish." He thought he recognized the trinket and wondered how Yuffie had gotten a hold of it. The chain was not something he ever saw Nanaki without.

She smiled brightly. "Will you do it for me?"

He winked at her, a mischievous grin breaking out on his face. "For you or for Nanaki?" the engineer asked. He chuckled as another blush crept into Yuffie's cheeks, and she spluttered to come up with a response. "Come on then," he said, taking pity on her. "There is a workshop two floors down I can use."

He moved off the wall and started walking, heading for the nearest elevator. Yuffie was right on his heels, unusually calm and silent for someone of her character. Archer hadn't been the only one who had noticed the subtle tension between the two friends, just as he had been one of the first to sense the developing romance as well.

"Thank you, Archer," came the ninja's unusually quiet words as they moved into the elevator, and he selected a button. "I will pay you back somehow--"

He shook his head. "I'll hear none of that now. I just want to see two of my good friends happy together." He smiled slightly as the elevator music surrounded them during their trip downwards. Unlike most people, Archer found he actually liked the songs that played in the enclosed lift. It lifted his spirits and soothed his fragile emotions.

She blushed again, an action that he found too cute and sweet on her. "It's not like that," Yuffie protested.

The man raised a brow. "Oh? Then, I mistook those smitten looks?"

The ninja sighed softly, looking down at the floor as they stepped out into the hall. "Nothing could come out of it anyways," she muttered dejectedly. "I'm engaged, and he's… well, you know."

"That didn't seem to bother you before," Archer interjected. "He's intelligent, isn't he? Probably more so than both of us."

She nodded. "Yeah… and strong, fast, brave, loyal… cute even," she ticked off his attributes on her fingers, smiling softly as she did so. It was an almost dreamy expression.

"Well, what's changed about him… other than his form?" Archer inquired, their boots echoing down the empty halls as Reeve had dismissed what few workers remained for the day. It surprised the engineer that he was here, having this conversation with the young ninja.

He would have thought she would have turned to someone else. Someone she had known for longer. Then again, he had always been genial and easy to talk with. Perhaps she had seen that in him. Regardless, he was glad to be of help to her in any way that he could. At least, maybe he could calm the frustration that he saw building behind those soft, brown eyes.

Yuffie frowned. "You know what's different; we can't be together. It's..." she trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Taboo?" the man supplied as he led her to a work room, opening the door for Yuffie as his mother had always taught him. Kami rest her soul. She had fallen to a respiratory illness nearly ten years past, and there were times he yet missed her.

The smell of grease and metal slapped them in the face as they entered, although it wasn't an altogether unpleasant odor, and Yuffie nodded her response as she looked about the small workshop. There were benches and desks scattered above, some clean and some littered with tools. It was a relatively small room compared to some of the others she had seen and seemed to be an engineer's haven. Archer was right at home.

"Well," the man said slowly as he directed her to a chair and sat behind one of the stations, pulling out several tools she couldn't even begin to recognize. "So was homosexuality once. Now, it is accepted… for the most part." The last was spoken with a slight shrug.

The ninja chewed her lip. "Yes, but--"

Archer shook her head. "I'm just saying... he'll be human again. I'm sure of it. Or who knows, with whatever strange magic surrounds him, perhaps you will end up as a…" the man struggled for the correct term, finally giving up after a few seconds, "whatever he is. I just don't want either of you to end up losing your best friend." The sincerity was evident in his tone.

An amethyst gaze bore into Yuffie's as she nodded in understanding. Archer made a valid point. Just because Nanaki had changed forms did not mean that he had changed as a person, and her reluctance to speak on the matter was probably only encouraging the distance between them.

Yuffie watched in fascination as Archer pulled out many different devices to fix the chain, and some of them she didn't even know where to begin with their description. Further, he had such an intent look on his face that she had to stifle a giggle.

Regardless of the silly expression on his face, the ninja couldn't help but notice that Archer was an attractive man, much like Reeve. He had youthful, amethyst eyes and an easygoing smile plus an innate charm and a slow, almost Reno-esque drawl, which seemed to work on everyone. She could not help but wonder why he was still single.

It was quiet in the workroom except for the scratching of the tools Archer was using and the soft whir of the overhead fans. It gave her time to think quietly without interruption. The engineer was pleasant company, and he brought up many valid points for her to consider. She was surprised to find such an easygoing relationship between them.

As they sat in a reasonably companionable quiet, Yuffie found her mind wandering to her first cousin. She knew he was putting on a strong front, the teenager but wondered if he would ever be able to listen to the voices inside of him. Yuffie believed that eventually he would crack, even worse than his outburst before. A man could only hide so much, restrain himself for so long before it consumed him. The ninja feared for her cousin's sanity but didn't know if there was even anything she could do for him.

She shook her head softly, determined not to drown herself in morbid thoughts. Instead, the girl turned her attentions to her companion, still diligently working on the broken amulet.

"So," Yuffie began slowly. "Anyone special in your life?"

Archer paused in his work, seeming to consider the question before shaking his head. "No," he replied. "I'm a lonely soul."

Yuffie giggled despite herself. The way he said that was almost as if he meant it to be a joke. Archer was truly a character. The ninja cleared her throat to hide the laughter and became serious once more.

"Why not?"

"I have yet to find anyone," he answered simply. Yuffie did not miss the melancholy and loneliness in his voice, and she wondered how she could call herself his friend when she hadn't noticed before.

As his deft fingers moved to fix the chain she meant to return to the one she cared for, Yuffie wondered what Archer would find for himself. She vowed to herself that she would locate for her good friend someone to love and cherish. Elena was single, wasn't she? And Tseng, Sephiroth, Zack… there were lots of options.

"What about Elena?" she suggested with a slight smirk.

The engineer frowned as he slid the shining polish and a cloth over the amulet. "No, she's just a… hmm… well, look here," he exclaimed in wonderment.

"What is it?" the girl asked, peering from across the room.

"There's an inscription underneath the dirt," the man replied thoughtfully, tilting the necklace more into the light so that he could see it better. Intrigued, Yuffie rose from her seat and hovered by Archer's shoulder.

_For my dearest, Kairi,_

_Who shall forever own my heart._

_My love always,_

_Tolkan._

"Kairi… that sounds Wutaiian," Yuffie commented in awe. "I never knew that was written on there."

Archer chuckled. "It was probably too dirty for you to be able to read anything." He buffed the necklace one last time, allowing the shine from its cleanliness to echo on his face before he handed it over to the ninja, completely fixed and stain-free.

The ninja ooh'ed and aah'ed at the beauty before slipping it into her pocket. "Thanks, Archie!" she said with a smile before leaning over and giving him a friendly peck on the cheek. "I hope it will cheer him up." She jiggled the chain in her pocket as she headed towards the door, intending to find her friend as soon as possible.

The engineer inclined his head as he began to clean up the counter top. "It would make him happier if you assure him you think no differently."

Yuffie chewed on her lip, her eyes sparkling with some unnamed emotion before she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think so, too." With that, she flounced out the door, shutting it with a quiet click behind her.

Archer merely chuckled and continued to clean the workshop. The vigors of youth never ceased to amaze him, not that he was that old to begin with. Still, he hoped that Nanaki and Yuffie got over whatever bump it was they were experiencing. The two were just too damn cute together.

Rude stood outside the door of the room, wondering why it was so quiet when he knew within were two women and two children. His wife was one of them. Woman or child, he couldn't decide which. She still surprised him everyday.

Regardless, the meeting was now over, and it was up to him to inform Shera and the Widow Gainsborough about what had occurred as Barret was too busy arguing with Cloud over his duties. The swordsman was staunchly refusing to allow him too far from his daughter, while Barret was tired of being out of the main body of thought. That was an argument between two stubborn people, and Rude wasn't interested in seeing the outcome.

Then again, one could argue that he was being equally ridiculous. After all, he was still standing outside the small room and looking like a fool for not going inside. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, the bald Turk put a hand on the door and opened it, and three pairs of eyes looked up at his entrance.

Denzel was at a table, little legs dangling over the lip of a chair and kicking back and forth as children were wont to do. He had a coloring book in front of him, and for such a young age, he was doing a painstaking job of staying within the lines. It was some cartoon that Rude was not familiar with.

Meanwhile, Marlene was on the floor, amusing herself with some toy cars and figurines that she must have brought with her from Corel. Elmyra was at the table with Denzel, reading some sort of fantasy romance, and Shera was lying on the couch, covered by a blanket. She was obviously asleep. She seemed so peaceful and quiet, something Rude knew was uncommon.

"Hello, Mr. Alexander," the Widow Gainsborough greeted pleasantly as she smiled. "Have the boys finished their meeting?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rude nodded, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips because she had referred to them all as "the boys". The door shut quietly behind him as he walked the rest of the way in.

"That's good, and how is Tseng?" Although the ladies had not been present at the meeting, Barret had kept them aware of the events, explaining in hushed whispers how the Turk Commander had gone "nutso" in his words. Sephiroth had also stopped by momentarily to greet Denzel and briefly attest to Barret's explanation.

"He has... recovered," Rude replied, searching for the proper word. He moved towards his sleeping wife as he continued, "However, he is not ready to speak about what happened." The bald Turk perched on the edge of the couch, removing his gloves before running a gentle touch down Shera's face. Unconsciously, she moved into the simple gesture, a smile crossing her lips.

Elmyra clucked sympathetically. "That poor boy works himself too hard. I've never seen a man so driven, except perhaps for Reeve now, but I have known Tseng for nearly as along as Aeris has been in my care." The woman frowned as she sighed, setting the book down on the table for the more interesting conversation as she went on, "He's a good man at heart, though it is sometimes hard to see through his cold mask."

Rude nodded in agreement even as Shera stirred under his touch, her head tilting to side. "Not like this one here," came the teasing murmur as brown eyes opened and winked at him.

Ms. Gainsborough shook her head and wagged a finger at the now rising pregnant woman. "Now, Shera," she began in an admonishing tone. "Rude's a good boy, too. They all are, now that I think about it. Never thought anything else of the Turks. Just good boys in the wrong business." A brief smile crossed her lips as she added, "Even that hellion trouble maker Reno."

The dark-skinned Turk couldn't help but chuckle at Elmyra's comment. He wondered how a woman like her was attracted to a man as loud and brash as Barret. There must have been something there that he could not see. Perhaps the gun-armed man had a heart of gold and a soft touch? Then again, considering his own relationship, which some might think odd, Rude thought it best not to concern himself with the intricacies of love. Sometimes it transcended any and all boundaries: age, gender, race, social standing, profession.

"He knows I'm joking," Shera explained as she threw off the blanket, hormones causing her to feel suddenly hot and about to burst into flame. She struggled to swing her legs about so that she was sitting up properly, her belly hampered her movements slightly. "I wouldn't have married him if I truly thought that."

"I appreciate the loving gesture," he responded dryly. Elmyra and Shera both laughed.

The two children in the room gave the adults odd looks before returning to their entertainment, coloring books and toys far more interesting than their boring conversation. They were remarkably well behaved for being so young. Then again, they hadn't had the easiest of lives, not with Marlene's birth parents dying when she was an infant and Denzel having to watch his own slain before his eyes.

Rude, unfortunately, understood the pain that forced their silence all too well. It was the look of many of the children of the slums, Reno included. He knew his partner had been born and raised among the poorest of the poor, but it was something they rarely brought up. Reno didn't seem too proud of that fact and would rather forget about that time in his life.

As such, Rude never questioned how the red-haired man had gotten his scars. Though he had wondered on more than one occasion, usually when Reno was reminded of his past. At those times, the redhead would get this faraway look in his eyes as he subconsciously rubbed at the marks on his face. It was a distant look, chilling and somber, and Rude always hoped that he would never see it again every time it surfaced.

It was yet another reason that Rude wore his sunglasses. It was much easier to hide your emotions when your eyes couldn't be seen. His mother had once told him that eyes were the windows to the soul. One could see the truth of a man through them: whether he lied or spoke the honest truth… if he meant you harm or was a good man. You could always tell by the look in his eyes. There was a lot you could see through those windows, and as such, Rude defended himself mightily against those he didn't trust with his fragile emotions. Very few had seen him without them on, his fellow Turks and Shera among them.

Shaking aside the somber thoughts and remembrances, Rude was about to suggest borrowing his wife so that he could take her to dinner when his phone rang, cutting through the laughter. They all glanced at his PHS with some trepidation as every time it rang recently it brought only bad news: the destruction of Gongaga, Reno's disappearance, the attack of Cosmo Canyon, and on. The bald man exchanged looks with Shera before he answered the phone.

"Rude, here." There was an initial static crackle before the phone cleared up, and he was able to hear the caller perfectly. Technicians had been working around the clock to fix the communications towers that had been destroyed in the battles of the last few days.

"Oh! Mr. Alexander! At last, I have finally been able to reach you," responded the rather surprised and deep voice, which Rude immediately recognized.

Again, the dark-skinned Turk exchanged glances with his wife before grabbing her hand and threading their fingers together. "Dr. Tsuki," he replied. "It's been awhile. I'm pleased to hear that recent world events have not done you harm."

The doctor chuckled. "This is very true. However, I have been trying without success until just now to reach both you and Mr. Strife. Unfortunately, Dr. Morrow did not survive the attack on Midgar, so I am taking half his cases, Mr. Strife's included." The man paused for a second, collecting himself. "Your test results have finally come back, including the DNA analysis."

Shera's hand tightened in his as Elmyra looked at them questioningly. They could all hear the doctor clearly through the phone and anxiously waited for him to continue. They were prepared for whatever he had to tell them.

"Please, Dr. Tsuki, good or bad, we would like to know," Rude expressed, and Shera squeezed his hand so hard that hers was turning completely white.

The doctor fell silent and the sound of rustling papers could be heard. "I can tell you now that your son is perfectly healthy. In fact, he is supremely healthy."

Both Alexanders let out a sigh of relief as Elmyra grinned happily. "That is good news," Rude replied. "You had us worried, doctor."

Tsuki laughed. "Worried? My dear sir, your only worry should be raising such a child. By all accounts, he will be extraordinary. Intelligence, speed, strength, magical adaptability, all will be of remarkable levels. The mako has indeed combined with your DNA, a truth that does not bring you much strength but will undoubtedly be passed down to your children fivefold. It is beneficial rather than harmful and won't be as painful to them as it was when it was administered to you. It's simply amazing." The awe was very evident in the good doctor's voice.

Rude's jaw dropped as he absorbed Dr. Tsuki's words. Not only was their son going to be healthy… but he was also going to be remarkable. He and Shera had been prepared to raise a child that would be disabled in some way because of the mako, but they had never thought their son would be extraordinary. He shared a pleased grin with his wife as he felt some of the stress and tension melt away.

"What about Mr. Strife?" he asked.

"Readings indicate much the same for his daughter. Mr. Alexander, these children could be the ones to change the world!" exclaimed Dr. Tsuki in a hopeful voice.

Shera beamed as she leaned towards the phone, her mouth near the receiver. "Dr. Tsuki, for now, I just want to get him born. We'll take on changing the world when I'm not the size of a balloon."

The good doctor's chuckle could easily be heard through the speaker. "Well, Mrs. Alexander, only a couple more months before that will occur. However, I must deliver the good news to Mr. Strife. I will expect you at the monthly check-up two weeks from now."

"Of course," replied Rude. "And thank you, doctor." With that said, he ended the call, another relieved sigh escaping from his lips. Two seconds later, Shera threw herself into his arms and kissed him soundly, his sunglasses getting knocked askew. The children giggled, and Elmyra smiled at their obvious love for each other. It was a joyous moment to be sure.

"Now, we have only one more problem," spoke Shera as she pulled back from the kiss, and the Turk readjusted his shades.

Elmyra raised a brow. "Oh? What would that be?"

Both Alexanders exchanged mischievous glances, but it was Rude who answered. "What to name our son. I like Terexis--"

"--which sounds like a damn disease," interrupted Shera with a snort and a teasing wink of her eyes. "While I prefer Mauldin, after my father."

"With a name like that, he'll be picked on at school, and its dangerously close to maudlin," protested Rude, remembering his own younger days in school and on the streets for his true name, which he /never/ used if he could help it. With this thus spoken, the couple glared at each other. Well, Elmyra assumed that Rude was glaring considering that he still wore his sunglasses.

The widow Gainsborough laughed at them because although they argued, she could see the proof of how much they loved each other. It made her think, for just a moment of her dearly departed husband. She would never forget him even as others found their way into her heart, especially one smiling little girl that reminded her so much of Aeris.

"Have you considered a compromise? Maybe taken suggestions from others?" she questioned lightly.

But before either could answer, the two children made their presence known, proving that they had indeed been paying attention. Marlene giggled before getting to her feet and clinging to Rude's arm.

"You could name him Barret," she suggested.

Denzel looked up from his coloring book. "Or Riley," he added as everyone looked to him in question. He lowered his gaze and mumbled as his face turned red, "It was my daddy's name."

Shera nodded before rising and giving the little boy a hug. "I think Riley is a fine name, don't you, Rude?"

The dark-skinned Turk nodded in response before detaching Marlene from his arm and turning towards Elmyra. "Would you mind if I borrowed Shera and took her to dinner?" The rumble in his wife's belly suddenly became another plea.

"Go on," responded the widow with a teasing laugh. "It's fine. Barret promised to bring us all some food after the meeting anyways."

With Ms. Gainsborough in agreement, the handsome couple left to find something to eat as Elmyra returned to her book, a smile on her face.

---

With a slight click, Cloud hung up the phone before Aeris leapt into his arms, an excited squeal lighting up her face. He had just finished speaking with their doctor and had learned of their daughter's very fortunate health. As if able to feel their enthusiasm, Midori kicked inside her mother's womb, and Cloud was able to experience this movement as Aeris was pressed very tightly to him.

The two were the last in the conference room since Barret gave up under Cloud's stubbornness. Everyone else had gone their separate ways. Tseng and Elena left with the two former SOLDIERs to find them some suitable lodgings. Cid and Vincent had returned to the Highwind for the night, and Cloud suspected, some privacy. Reeve and Reno had gone home most likely for the same, while Rude had left looking for Shera, mumbling something about steak and baked potatoes. He saw Yuffie drag Archer away and wasn't sure what that was about, and Nanaki had mentioned something about trying to find a better weapon since it appeared he was going to be in his current form some time. As for the anima, he had no clue where they went when they weren't deigning the humans with their presence. Cloud figured everyone would gravitate to their assigned tasks tomorrow, after what they had all learned had time to sink in.

Frankly, it was a lot to absorb.

Vincent was alive, and his inner demon's had escaped, becoming the new threat was completely unexpected. Then, there was the return of both Zack and Sephiroth, as well as the discovery of the existence of the anima, two points he had never thought possible. Tseng's outburst had been entirely unexpected, not to mention finding out he was related to Yuffie. Cloud wasn't even sure if he believed that fact alone, much less all of this mess. And his own anima was going to be of no use whatsoever, a truth that was causing him much thought.

Would he even be able to sufficiently lead the fight against Balaam? Could the others really put their trust in him if he couldn't hold his own?

"I'm glad that we no longer have to fear for Midori," murmured Aeris as she nuzzled against his chest. The blond brought up his hands and stroked her back, again surprising himself with how much he loved her.

He didn't know what would have become of him if she hadn't been returned to his side. He felt that in the end he might have been consumed by his guilt and feelings of unworthiness. And with Zack also returned to life, there was nothing for him to torture himself with anymore. Those he had failed had made their way back to life. There was nothing he had left to do to bring peace to himself. At last, he could be happy.

"You know," began Aeris. "Barret came to me earlier with the strangest question."

Cloud furrowed his brow. "What?"

The flower-girl laughed slightly before pulling back from his hold. Teasing jade eyes locked onto him before she replied in all seriousness, "He asked me if I would mind it terribly if he asked Elmyra to marry him."

Cloud's eyes widened in surprise. He struggled to hold in his laughter. "You mean… he asked for your /permission?"

Aeris nodded, a slight giggle escaping from her lips. The blond decided it was okay to laugh and let the noise escape him. His wife, meanwhile, continued her narration, the words only increasing the man's mirth.

"He was so nervous, stuttering over his words and trying to sound all proper. I swear, that may be the only time I've ever seen Barret blush." Her lips quirked even more at the thought. "He not only asked for my permission but my blessing as well, saying that he would never take a mother from her daughter."

"And what'd you say?"

Aeris seemed indignant for the briefest of moments. "Of course, I told him he could. It's obvious how much he cares for her."

"I guess a wedding is on the horizon. I'd hate to see you and Elena get your claws in that one, too." Cloud snickered as Aeris punched him playfully.

"It's too late anyways," the flower-girl announced cheerfully. "Barret already said that if my mom said yes, which she will, Elena and I get to plan it. And I already have something great in mind."

Cloud groaned, instantly feeling sorry for his friend. Elena and Aeris, normally kind and generous women, turned into snarling dragons at the mere thought of weddings. He idly wondered if it was because Elena was single, and he and Aeris had basically eloped. Or did there even have to be a method for the madness?

"Well," the swordsman stated and sighed. "If your display in the conference room didn't scare him off then he can't say he wasn't warned."

She playfully punched him again. "C'mon you. Let's go home." Cloud inclined his head in agreement. After all, Elmyra was planning on taking care of Denzel, and everyone else had enough sense to do the same thing. For the night, at least, it would be a chance to relax before the real work began.

------

Review Please!


	43. Unexpected Happenings

Thanks to readers and reviewers! Much appreciated!

(Voice in Head)

' Internal Voice '

**Chapter 43: Unexpected Happenings**

The clang and clash of swords resounded through the air. It was a brilliant rhythm of mastery and skill, quick and successive with bold moves and even bolder returns. There was a slide of booted feet over the graveled arena, followed by manly grunts and quick pants of fatigue, and each unique sound was normal for the training center associated with the new ShinRa building.

There was another fierce clang and then the pounding of feet along the ground, and Zack couldn't help but smile in satisfaction, though his brow streamed with sweat and his limbs had the good feeling of being used past their limits. It was an encouraging pain; one that as a soldier, he both craved and endured. Against an opponent as skilled as Tseng, a man whose moves were fluidic and precise, much like someone else he knew, the pain was a compliment.

Even Zack had to admit, straight as a rail though he was, that there was something to admire in the Wutaiian Turk. Every inch of Tseng commanded respect, from the way he presented himself to the no-shit-from-anyone look that was often gleaming in silver eyes. Born with the blood of a warrior, Zack could see that and more in Tseng with every swing of his twin katanas.

"It seems the more we practice, the more your skill improves," Tseng remarked, not even the slightest of hitches in his voice. It was remarkable how the Turk barely looked winded as they had been mock dueling for a little over two hours. On the other hand, Zack's legs ached, his arms screamed in agony, and his breath came in short pants. Yet, he enjoyed every minute of it.

He scoffed in return. "Maybe you are just getting worse?" Zack clamped down tighter on the Zanken sword (1) and started circling Tseng, looking very much like a hungry wolf.

The Turk raised a brow. "That is the same thing Reno says, right before I knock him on his ass again." His own weapons hung at his side, as if dangling loosely from a slack hold. Tseng already knew that when Zack chose to attack, he was more than able to raise them and counter before the ex-SOLDIER could hurt him. The Gongagan was much like Cloud in that aspect.

He was strong, each blow something powerful, especially with the added weight of the large sword. Yet, as such, he couldn't move quickly nor make intricate moves with the blade. Unlike the blond, however, Zack was tricky. He always had something clever up his sleeve, while Cloud would rather barge in and hope some idea came to him.

The spiky-haired man laughed. "Speaking of gay men… you wouldn't happen to be single, would you?"

Tseng's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected question, and in the wake of such words, Zack decided to attack. He dug into the ground with his boots and rushed forward with the force of a speeding train.

(You are devious, my friend,) Fenrir chuckled in a low voice.

'Perhaps, but it was a ploy that will hopefully succeed,' the human responded.

He swung the Zanken in an upward arc, the tip of it scraping a furrow into the ground and throwing up a cloud of dust. He even managed to do this one-handed. Tseng blocked the attack with one of his katanas, easily bringing up the other for a counterstrike. However, Zack caught that blade with his glove, a slight grin on his face.

For a moment, neither man moved as they regarded each other coolly, faces like stone. That was until Zack's eyebrow twitched just barely. Then, like a signal and in the blink of an eye, they twisted their bodies away from each other and attacked again.

The Zanken flashed in the sun light as Zack slashed with a fierce back swing. Tseng barely intercepted it before the ex-SOLDIER pivoted on his foot and swung out with a fist. The Wutaiian dodged the blow, pushing against Zack's strength as he slashed the second katana in an upwards arc, only to meet a perfectly timed arm guard. The former SOLDIER grinned and swept out a foot, knocking Tseng off balance.

But before the spiky-haired man knew it, the Turk recovered and struck at him, giving a blow that was strong enough to send the other man reeling backwards by a few paces. The Gongagan took a moment to regain his balance before gripping the hilt tightly, raising his sword and charging Tseng again, a fierce cry falling from his lips.

Thus began a duel of speed, one large and heavy Zanken against the light and smooth dual blades, Tenken. Tseng's movements were nearly a blur as he defended against Zack's stronger attacks. Sweat dripped from their foreheads and dust clung to their clothing. The ex-SOLDIER grinned as he fought, while the Turk never lost his look of intense determination.

"You never… answered… my question," panted out the spiky-haired man in between swings of his sword. Their blades met in a stand off, and the Gongagan looked Tseng in the eye over their joined weapons. "Are you?"

Silvery eyes narrowed. "You purposely attempted to put me off guard."

Zack shrugged. "Maybe... or perhaps I really am just that curious. So," he prodded again, "are you attached, my friend?"

"I do not see how my sexuality is important for this duel," the Wutaiian retorted, a hard tone to his voice.

The crystalline-eyed man laughed. "I wasn't questioning your sexuality, Tseng. I already know that much. I asked if you had a boyfriend… for research purposes, of course."

The Wutaiian sighed, one eyebrow twitching. "Very well then if you are so interested… I am presently unattached."

The ex-SOLDIER chuckled again, even as he grinned. "That's good news," he replied before suddenly breaking out of their stalemate and slashing forward. This time, Tseng was not taken by surprise and quickly blocked the attack. He took a step forward, flipping the second blade in his hand and swiftly cuffing Zack on the head with the flat of his katana.

The spiky-haired man cursed as he pulled back, the pain from the blow more annoying than actually painful. He thrust the Zanken into the ground with one hand and leaned upon it as he rubbed on his sore ear and face with the other. The Turk merely stood to the side, swords again dangling from a slightly loose grip as an impassive expression took over his features.

"That hurt," complained Zack as he winced.

Tseng raised another eyebrow. "And this is a duel, or have you forgotten?"

The ex-SOLDIER shook his head. "I hadn't," he said with a grin. "But if you're going to actually strike me, then I think I'll return the favor." With those words, he straightened and pulled his sword from the floor. He held the Zanken up, now perpendicular with the ground, both hands firmly on the hilt. His face was completely serious, all traces of the joker from before now gone and replaced with determination.

"Oh?" the Wutaiian commented, noticing the change in his demeanor. "You are only serious now? How disappointing," he put in drolly, idly inspecting one of his katanas, as though he wasn't the least bit impressed.

Unexpectedly, the Turk raised his swords and darted off at a great speed towards Zack. The ex-SOLDIER kept his gaze trained on the approaching man, a plan already forming in his mind. He watched Tseng's footwork carefully, knowing from prior observation that the Wutaiian always attacked from the side opposite his last step forward.

The distance between them decreased quickly as Tseng's speed was constant. Zack's eyes locked on the Turk's feet. A few more yards… one, two… there! From the right! Zack's head snapped upwards, and he reacted.

Swiftly, he raised his blade and blocked the Wutaiian's attack. Tseng's eyes widened in surprise, but it was too late. Zack used the Turk's forward momentum against him as he spun, transferring the Zanken to his opposite hand so that he ended up just behind Tseng. Before the silver-eyed man could whirl around, Zack flipped the sword and struck Tseng across the back with the flat of his blade.

"I'm always serious," huffed the spiky-haired man.

A startled oomph escaped from the Turk's mouth as he stumbled forward, one katana slicing into the ground in an attempt to keep himself upright as his knees buckled. Zack smiled victoriously as the man coughed and tried to regain his lost breath.

"I believe... you've been fooling me," Tseng commented with a glare, though his eyes were faintly pleased. He looked over his shoulder at the gloating ex-SOLDIER. "How did you know which side?"

Zack winked as he lowered his blade. "You think I wouldn't pick up on your little trick after fighting you this entire time. I was just waiting for the right moment to reveal my brilliance."

Tseng shook his head as he straightened his body. "I should have known not to underestimate you." With a slight cough, he angled his body to face the ex-SOLDIER. "You were, after all, Sephiroth's second."

The crystalline-eyed man grinned at hearing the former General's name. "Never could beat that bastard," he flippantly replied before peering slyly at Tseng, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. "Though, I do know for a fact that he has a thing for dark-haired men," Zack said nonchalantly, completely changing the subject. His words were punctuated with another distinct wink.

To his horror, Tseng could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading into his cheeks. He struggled to fight it down as he played up his ignorance, but secretly and if only to himself, he admitted he was also more than a bit curious. Now was the perfect opportunity to have some of his questions and internal ponderings laid to rest.

He raised a brow, trying and barely succeeding in not seeming keenly interested. "You?" the Turk inquired calmly, but the other man wasn't fooled.

Zack laughed. "Everyone seems to think that. Do I really set off gaydar that badly?" He shook his head. "Nah, Seph's just my best buddy. I watch his back; he watches mine. That's how it's always been as long as I've known him. Though, I admit it was a bit tough getting through that hard-as-fucking-ice shell."

Tseng blinked. "Gaydar?" he questioned before shaking his head. This was after all, Zack he was talking to, and the ex-SOLDIER made about as much sense as Reno. "Nevermind, I do not want to know."

"If it's coming from the mouth of that one, it's probably best not to ask," came another voice from the other side of the arena. Both men immediately recognized the smooth tone as belonging to Sephiroth.

They looked up to see the former General approaching them, his borrowed sword belted at his side. His hair had remained dyed black since it was simpler that way, and he had kept his present style of dress.

Belatedly, Tseng was surprised that he had not heard the man approach.

"Most thoughts that fly from his head are of a distinctly perverted nature," Sephiroth continued as he joined them.

Zack grinned. "Well, Sleeping Beauty, so nice of you to join us. I had thought you would be asleep all day… late night?"

The former ShinRa shook his head and sighed. "Some things never change. I suppose I can assume that you've been spending the past few hours with your face in the dirt, knowing the Commander's skill and your own."

Tseng smiled faintly, the tips of his mouth twitching. "That is a fairly accurate depiction of what occurred."

"Hey!" denied Zack. "I won that last one!"

The Turk snorted lightly. "I think it was pure luck."

"Hmph," responded the spiky-haired man as he lifted his sword and placed it back in its sheath. "I don't have to take this. Seph, why don't you show him the power of SOLDIER. I'm going to go find something more entertaining." He flashed a grin at Tseng. "We'll see how powerful you are when Seph's got you on your back."

Tseng's eyes widened in momentary surprise, even as Sephiroth groaned and covered his face with one gloved hand. "You never stop… do you, Loire?" the General asked.

"Nope!" replied Zack cheerily as he turned away from them with a farewell wave and began heading out of the arena. "It's why you all love me so damn much."

"Or merely tolerate," Sephiroth muttered under his breath.

"I heard that!" called back the spiky-haired man. "Now, you two play nice and remember kiddies…" He paused and winked before continuing, "Don't forget the lube!" Zack's laughter filled the air, the sound fading as he disappeared around a corner.

The former General groaned again, refusing to remove the glove from his face for fear that he had reddened with embarrassment. "He is such a child," Sephiroth uttered from behind the glove.

Another smile tugged at the corner of Tseng's mouth. "Yes, but… I cannot really see him as being the serious type, can you?" He glanced at Sephiroth from the corner of his eye.

The former General really was a handsome man, some might say beautiful, even with his changed looks. Black leather suited him well, and although he rarely smiled, Tseng was sure that when he did it was well worth the wait. Sephiroth was slightly taller than the Turk, but without his old shoulder guards, they were about the same size physically. They would look good together, and Tseng quietly admitted it to himself. His own slightly darker skin next to Sephiroth's pale skin that was just this side of white…

The Turk gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, determined to wipe the inappropriate and altogether arousing thoughts from his mind.

Sephiroth sighed, drawing Tseng's attention. "Perhaps not, but a little hint of seriousness might improve his swordsmanship." He frowned before exhaling softly again, turning towards Tseng as he did so and gesturing to his sword. "Well... shall we?"

Tseng blinked for a moment in confusion before sudden understanding struck him, and a third smile tugged at his lips. "You are going to defend the honor of your unfortunate friend?"

The former General scoffed, "What honor? I am interested in seeing how much your skill has improved."

Tseng raised a brow. "Oh? Well, I am afraid that unless I rest, you will not get to see my full strength. I have been fighting your subordinate all morning."

"Will fifteen minutes be long enough?" Sephiroth questioned, a strange expression on his face.

The Wutaiian resisted the urge to laugh as Sephiroth was quite serious; SOLDIERs were certainly of a different caliber. "It will be enough to catch my breath and finish off a bottle of water," he supplied before finally sheathing his blades and turning towards the set of benches off to one side of the arena.

"Very well," the other man allowed as he followed Tseng. "It's not as if I have more pressing matters to attend to. Until the others find Balaam and his hideout, I am to keep a low profile."

"How frustrating," Tseng commented as he walked, and he truly meant it. If it had been himself, he would have been going rather crazy with boredom, not to mention the general feeling of uselessness that would plague his every thought. The Turk sat on one of the benches, grabbing bottled water from the stack he had brought earlier and wiped at his sweaty forehead.

"You have no idea," responded the former General, his voice somewhat bitter as he took a seat on the bench, a respectable distance between them. His arms crossed over his chest, and he focused his attention on the ground. "Though, I can understand why Cloud would choose to act that way. He still does not trust me."

Tseng shook his head faintly as he took a drink of the water. Somehow, he didn't think that was the case. He remembered well Cloud's anger at Sephiroth's appearance and the subsequent interrogation. The entire time it seemed that the blond was fighting something within himself, not to mention that Tseng knew that Cloud had once looked up to Sephiroth as his idol. Perhaps it wasn't that the blond didn't trust Sephiroth… but more that he didn't trust himself to make the right decisions concerning the former General.

"Did you know all those years ago how much Cloud admired you?" Tseng asked softly, his gaze trained on some random object far off the distance. He had the feeling that if he were to watch Sephiroth as he spoke, the man would clam up immediately.

Sephiroth exhaled very slowly. "I was aware that many cadets looked to me as their hero, though I didn't comprehend why the shedding of blood was something to be proud of, something noble." He paused, never once looking up from his intent contemplation of the dirt. "But I was too unlearned in human emotion to understand the true depth of some admiration."

The Turk nodded in understanding; though in reality, he wasn't sure of what Sephiroth spoke. The former General had been raised as a ward of ShinRa, the details of his life and birth unknown to the general populace. It wasn't until the Nibelheim incident that Tseng even learned Hojo was Sephiroth's father and that some creature by the name of Jenova had a hand in his genetics. The Wutaiian couldn't even imagine what ills Sephiroth had suffered due to Hojo's twisted and sadistic mind.

And judging by the look on the other man's face, Tseng decided it was high time he changed the subject. On that matter, he was mildly shocked that Sephiroth was even carrying on a conversation. Was it possible that Zack spoke the truth and the former General had a… crush, for lack of a better word, on him? No, that was impossible. Improbable.

Tseng blinked, trying to clear his thoughts as he realized he had been staring off into space. He searched for another topic, silvery gaze finally landing on the sword sheathed at Sephiroth's hip. At least there, they had something in common.

"That is Gilgamesh's sword," he commented. "It looks remarkably like the Masamune."

Sephiroth nodded as he unfolded his arms, one falling to rest lightly on the hilt of his weapon. He opened his mouth to reply but another voice interrupted.

"Yes, and with the way he carelessly swings it about, you would think it was a toy rather than the weapon of an immortal being," came the reprimanding tone.

Tseng glanced up in surprise to see Gilgamesh standing over them, but Sephiroth did not bother to raise his head. The sudden appearance of the demi-god startled the Turk somewhat, but he managed to hide it well. He still wasn't used to the idea of the demi-deities or the fact that he had one trying to speak to him. In fact, he had blocked out the voice for the day, giving him a headache in the process. Perhaps one day he could accept it, but for the moment, Tseng had enough troubles.

"It is a substandard blade," Sephiroth remarked, his tone somewhat icy. "You would do well to replace it."

Gilgamesh laughed heartily. "Sleeping Beauty is irritated, I take it. Did I interrupt something?"

Mossy eyes narrowed. "Don't you have something better to do than annoy me today? Such as… duties or anything important?"

The demi-god shrugged. "Not really. I was actually looking forward to observing the duel between you two."

Sephiroth shook his head. "You show up out of nowhere so you could watch a fight between mortals?" he questioned somewhat disbelievingly.

Gilgamesh inclined his head as he crossed his arms over his chest, red robe billowing about him. "Only as I believe that Mr. Wutai here can knock you on your over-confident ass."

Tseng's eyes widened in surprise.

Him? Defeat the Great Sephiroth? He was certainly a good swordsman, perhaps better than Zack, but was he skilled enough to take on the former General one-on-one and come out victorious?

The demi-god noted his expression and regarded him evenly. "You do not believe you can." It was a statement and not a question, but Gilgamesh smirked. "There is only way to find out. Who knows, dare I say, you may even have fun."

He certainly had a point, and Tseng was not the type to back down from a challenge as interesting as such. He took one more sip from his water before recapping the bottle and standing.

"Fifteen minutes are up," he responded in answer to the challenge. "Do you still want to duel?"

Sephiroth smiled faintly. "For the honor of my comrade I will."

The demi-god grinned. "Good. Now go work out your frustrations!"

The former General shot him a warning glare as the two men made their way to the center of the arena. Gilgamesh remained by the benches, plopping down comfortably upon one as he leaned forward with an elbow resting on a knee. Tseng and Sephiroth drew their blades, finding in their attack stances, and serious expressions of equal swordsman's spirit covered their faces.

They bowed slightly to each other, intent on beginning the duel in the next second when the sound of booted feet approaching forced them to look up in surprise. Vincent was coming towards them.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," spoke the gunman softly.

Tseng gazed at him evenly. "We were about to practice and duel, but that can wait a moment. Did you come here for a reason?"

Vincent inclined his head as his grey gaze fell on Sephiroth. "I was wondering if I might speak with you a moment?"

A minute passed as something flickered in mossy eyes before Sephiroth sheathed his blade. "My apologies, Tseng, but Mr. Valentine and I have… unfinished business. I'll have to postpone my duel."

Within his mind, Gilgamesh sighed. (It would have been entertaining at least. Oh well, another time.) Sephiroth, however, ignored his anima.

Tseng kept his face neutral, though inside he was frowning. "That is quite alright. I can practice fine on my own." He wondered what sort of business the two had. As far as he knew, Vincent had not known Sephiroth until recently. The ex-Turk had disappeared right around the time that the former General was born.

"Thank you," Sephiroth responded, something flashing across his face, but it was gone in an instant. He and Vincent exchanged glances, and the two men walked away, heading out of the training area. Gilgamesh disappeared as well once it was clear that the two men were no longer going to duel.

The Wutaiian watched them for a moment, brow furrowed in thought, before deciding that there was nothing he could understand at the present moment. Perhaps Cid knew something; he could ask the pilot later. With that thought in mind, he raised his blades and began practicing.

---

Zack smirked to himself as he strode from the training arena. It was amusing to tease his friend. Plus, it was about time Sephiroth got himself some loving. He had been alone for far too long. Zack had always known that the former General liked men, even before Sephiroth himself knew, and it didn't bother him. Zack was perfectly comfortable in his sexuality, which was why he could easily admit to himself that both Tseng and Sephiroth were very attractive.

Besides, he had the feeling that they would be good for each other. Tseng was experienced enough to treat Sephiroth well, and the General might be the only one who could understand the Turk's mental plight. The only stumbling blocks would be Sephiroth's naiveté and shyness and Tseng's detached way of handling things. Still, Zack had the feeling that it would all come together in the end.

The sound of faint gunfire in the distance caught his attention, reminding him that there was a shooting range nearby. Curious as to who would be indoors on such a fine day, Zack followed the noise until he found his way to the range.

Once he opened the door, the rhythmic gunfire became even louder. There was only one person inside, mufflers covering her ears as she continued to fire one bullet after another into the far target. He immediately recognized the golden and downy blonde hair as belonging to Elena.

Zack stood behind her, watching for a moment as she struck the bull's eye more often than not. Even without a center hit, every bullet still struck a vital area with astounding accuracy.

When the echoes of the last shot faded, and Elena began loading another clip into her handgun, Zack chose to make his presence known. He took a step forward but paused when she suddenly spoke.

"Don't even think about trying to startle me, Loire. You are not exactly stealthy," she warned without turning around.

Zack grinned as he moved to stand beside her. "You heard me? Even through the gunshots and those mufflers?"

"I was taught to always be aware of my surroundings, even when it appears to my enemy that I am not," the blonde retorted simply. "I'm surprised that Sephiroth did not think to educate you."

Zack raised an eyebrow as he picked up one of the handgun's that she had laid out in front of her, idly checking to see if it was loading and testing the weight of it. "I'm an enemy, am I? And Sephiroth did teach me, thank you very much." He raised the gun, aiming it at the far target.

She scoffed. "What does a swordsman know of gunmanship? Put it down before you accidentally shoot something important."

Zack merely grinned again as he aimed and fired, a quick succession of eight bullets straight into the target at the far end of the range, directly next to the one Elena had successfully pummeled. When he lowered his arms, she was gaping at the skill he had displayed, nearly as good if not exactly on her level. He hadn't missed the target at all and had only gotten one less bull's eye than her.

"My father loved guns," explained Zack casually as he picked up a clip and began reloading his weapon. "He tried to instill that passion in me as well, but I was more fascinated by swords. Still, that type of teaching never goes away. He always said that it was such a pity I had all that talent and turned to something else."

"Indeed," she commented as she took off her mufflers and turned to face him. She stuck out a hand. "Very well, I believe I can respect you now, Zack. You've proven your mettle."

The ex-SOLDIER chuckled as he shook her hand. "That's what it takes to get you off, eh? You're much easier to understand than your boss."

The blonde sighed as she shook her head. "You have no idea. Seems we both have our hands full with our superiors, even though technically Sephiroth is no longer 'the General'."

Zack shrugged. "Seph will always be the General to me." A mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "Besides, if it all works out, soon they'll have their hands full of each other, and we'll be off Scott free!"

"So you've noticed it, too?" the female Turk questioned, not surprised at all. "Those two fools will take forever to do anything if we don't help them."

"To speak so ill of your superior, Elena; I'm appalled," joked Zack.

She rolled her eyes. "And you are as childish as Reno. However, he has nothing of your skill in gun accuracy. Luckily for him, he has that Electro Rod." She smirked, as though recalling something amusing. "So tell me more about your father, was he in ShinRa?"

Zack nodded, casually examining the gun that he held. "Up until he retired. He was a Captain, pretty famous somewhat in the Wutai war. You might have heard of him, Lexas Loire? But he got wounded in the front lines and was sent home. He had been retired since then. He was a good man, the kind that was easy to trust and proved it over and over."

"I would have liked to meet this Lexas," Elena stated, looking at him. "We could have shared our interest in guns since his son turned away from the tradition," she teased.

The ex-SOLDIER smiled. "Yeah," he responded. He was about to say more, but suddenly, he began to hear them.

Out of nowhere, there were faint whispers across the edge of his subconscious, like an echo in his ear of many voices all speaking a language. And for the moment, they made no sense. The sound grew louder with each passing moment as the words became clearer until they were pounding in his head with the force of a crowd and sending a shooting pain through the back of his eyes.

Zack winced, holding one hand up to his head.

_Death_…_ Loss_…_ warning_…

The words came in no certain order, and he knew immediately that the Planet was speaking to him, working through him as it had claimed it would.

Elena's eyes were wide with worry. "Zack, are you alright?"

He waved her off. "Yeah… I… I think that I've worked myself too hard today." He managed a faint smile. "Hasn't been that long since I came back to life. I think I'll just go lie down for a bit." The ex-SOLDIER took a step away from her. "Say, Tseng and Sephiroth are dueling in the arena. Can I rely on you to go make sure they are at least speaking to each other?"

The blonde nodded, though she was still concerned for him. It was rare to not see a smile on Zack's face, but now, he seemed pained. "Yeah, I'll do that."

"Thanks. Well, see you later," he replied, laying the gun down on the table and promptly walking from the room, idly rubbing on his head. The voices were louder, like a roar in his ears, and he needed to be alone if he was going to try and make sense of them.

Elena frowned in concern before removing her mufflers completely and getting ready to go the arena. Perhaps Sephiroth would know what was wrong with his subordinate.

She tucked one of the handguns into the hollow of her back, two more into the holsters at her sides, and the last and smallest one into the holster on her thigh before heading for the arena. The female Turk was surprised by the quiet as she approached it, thinking that she should have been able to hear the clashing of swords. As she rounded the bend, she saw that Tseng was alone, practicing his maneuvers. She waited until he stopped for a breather before she made her presence known.

"Boss!" she called out. "How's it going?"

He angled his body to face her, sweat dotting his forehead and chest heaving somewhat with exertion. "Elena, I presume you hit all the targets?"

She nodded as she walked up to him. "Of course. Where's Sephiroth?"

Tseng blinked as he sheathed his blades. "How did you know he was here?"

"A little spiky-headed child came by and showed me his marksmanship," the blonde drawled.

The Wutaiian had to fight back a grin. "Ah, I see. Well, the General is gone. He left with Vincent not but ten minutes ago." He walked towards the benches, again grabbing a bottle of water and this time, also taking a cleaning cloth for his katanas. "Unfortunately, I did not get to duel him, though I rather enjoyed defeating Zack every time. He is good with a gun?"

"Surprisingly, yes," admitted the woman as she took a seat next to him. Her eyes roamed over her boss, noticing he was still haggard. Dark circles were under his eyes, though he managed to look as if he wasn't tired at all. "But he left to get some rest; he was acting oddly."

"Oddly? How so?" the Turk Commander inquired as he unsheathed one katana and started wiping off the blade, removing dust and such from it.

Elena shook her head. "I can't really say. All of the sudden, he started to wince and hold his head, but he didn't say he had a headache, just that he was tired." She sighed. "I dunno. I can't really understand what goes on around here with dead people coming back to life and all."

Tseng scowled in thought. "I see."

"You know, that's not such a bad idea… getting some rest," she said softly. "You should consider the same."

Again, the Turk raised a brow. "I am fine, Elena. I have still got some work to do before the day is over."

Nevermind that his head was beginning to ache or that his shoulder's sagged, no matter how much he struggled to hold them up. Nevermind that just the day before he had suffered a nervous breakdown… in front of everyone no less. Tseng was fighting to regain his dignity from his loss of control, and the blonde knew that.

Elena glowered as she narrowed her eyes. "Are you planning on working yourself to death?" she snapped angrily. "Between you and Reeve, I don't know who is going to die first! The way you two put everything on your own shoulders and take all the responsibility, it irritates me!" She huffed and glared at him even more. "Frankly, I wasn't surprised at all yesterday. Above everyone else, I knew it had to come sooner or later, and I won't be shocked at all if Reeve breaks within the next week." She huffed before softening. "Everyone breaks Tseng."

He didn't even flinch as she spoke. Of all his Turks, in the past few months, Elena had been the one to be closest to him. They were both single, and perhaps the most alike in some ways. She was trying to live up to the expectations of her sister, and he was out to prove that nothing could bring him down.

He opened his mouth to reply to her when she suddenly sighed. "I'm sorry, Tseng. That was uncalled for."

He shook his head. "No, you are right. It appears that my health has upset you."

Elena regarded him with exasperation. "Upset me? You are my friend, Tseng, not just the boss. I'm not the only one worried either. Poor dumbass got his hands full concerned with both you and his lover. The same goes for Rude, though he finally can breathe easy knowing his son will be alright. Give us all a break, ne?"

Tseng smiled faintly. "I will try, if that will suffice."

The blonde grinned. "It's better than nothing. And while you're at it, why not go after some leather-clad stud?"

"Elena!"

She snickered. "It's just a thought, Tseng. Relax."

The Wutaiian shook his head at his subordinate and sighed, returning to polishing the second katana. Perhaps Elena was right, and he should go rest as well; it wasn't as if he had been given any difficult tasks either. Elena said nothing more, and the two sat in a companionable silence.

-----

(1) The Zanken is my creation.


	44. His Troubled Heart

I don't really know if anyone is reading this anymore... but if you are, here's the next chapter. I'd appreciate a review or two.

**Chapter 44: His Troubled Heart**

He stood at his window, staring out at the broken building he had worked so hard to reconstruct. As the sun set behind the crumpled concrete, he could only think of how it stood as a fractured monument to their shattered dreams. Orange and yellow beams of light reflected on the grey stone with a cheery warm glow, but still, the sight threatened to turn him cold.

What had happened to the peace promised after defeating Sephiroth? Where had the chance gone for relaxation and time spent with loved ones in serenity? Those dreams had collapsed beneath the weight of a madman demi-god, who had all the power in the world and not a drop of freedom. Reeve couldn't decide whether or not he felt proud to be a mortal, to have those rights, or if sacrificing liberty for power was worth it.

Despair threatened to consume him, an all encompassing darkness that weighed down his heart and sent him into fits of uncharacteristic brooding. He was slowly falling into a pit of depression, feeling as if something integral was missing from his life, and it seemed nothing could save him.

Reeve idly wondered if his recent, no… recent was the wrong word. Recent implied that it had just begun. In truth, his anger and sorrow had been slowly building within for quite some time. He wondered if he had been working too hard lately, but there was no one else to delegate to. And so he dealt with the insomnia and the clawing tightness in his throat that availed him every time he laid to rest. He tried to ignore the gnawing pit in him. He ate less and less everyday, and it took more concentration to hide the shaking in his limbs from Reno.

They had fought. They had made up, and now, everything seemed to be right again. They were once more together. They had married, much to Elena and Aeris' anger, and now, they were set to be happy for the rest of their lives. He loved Reno, he was certain of that, no matter the doubts he may have had when they first began their relationship. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something in his life, something he had always longed for.

Reeve was falling apart at the seams, but he would be damned if he'd allow himself to break. He couldn't afford to. With the world falling to hell and Tseng teetering on the edge, the executive knew he had no other options, so he buried his despair under a mask, hid the melancholy behind forced smiles, and told everyone he was going to be fine. For now, that would have to suffice.

Out of seemingly nowhere, arms slid around his waist from behind, pulling him back into a comforting embrace. Reeve relaxed into the touch, not at all surprised since he had heard Reno come in. He knew that the Turk and Archer had been out in the submarine all day, searching. They must have just returned.

The executive could only guess that they had found nothing, not that he expected results after the first day. Still, that had been their assignment, as well as mapping out the ocean floor and establishing underwater tracking systems, just in case. It would probably take them another two days to complete their sweep, but Reeve didn't think they would find anything. Balaam didn't strike him as the type to hide underwater.

Cid and Vincent had reported in about thirty minutes ago. According to the two, there was nothing to be found on the Northern Continent. Although the citizens of Icicle had plenty to say about Seraph, they hadn't heard or seen anything of the demonic sort. Those in Bone Village remembered Tifa well. Apparently, she had tried seducing several of the younger, married males. Many of the town's female patrons had been very upset with her and were more than glad to see Tifa go.

Reeve couldn't blame them.

The Northern Crater, which had been the executive's initial guess, was abandoned. It was nothing more than a glimmering pool of green, feathered mako, lying innocently among the collapsed remains of the cavern. After that, the two men ended the day rather early, Vincent claiming that he had something to take care of before the battle with Balaam could begin.

Cid had been rather short with Reeve as he related this, his words clipped and harsh. The executive had the uncomfortable feeling that there was trouble brewing between the pair, yet another event that seemed wrong with the world. With Vincent returned, the two should feel nothing but happiness, reigniting their love and making up for lost time. Still, there was an undercurrent of something unresolved that the executive could not understand.

Yuffie had put off her trip to Wutai until Nanaki could come with her. The lion wolf hadn't wanted to return to Cosmo Canyon but was conducting some research in the main library of Midgar. He claimed he had a hunch about something. Reeve was inclined to believe him. After all, Nanaki was not only older but probably wiser about such things.

Reeve had also noticed the thin line of tension between the friends. He supposed it had much to do with Nanaki's recent return to his more lupine form. Everyone had seen what was developing between them, noting how friendship had begun to blossom into more. But no one even thought to stop it, giving both their utmost support. Reeve had the feeling there was something behind the transformations, some secret that had yet to be revealed, and his hunch told him that, somehow, his two youngest companions would find a way to be together.

Did he even need to mention that his hunch often went by the name of Archer Kyle?

Barret had finally given in to Cloud's orders and was helping Rude clean the last of the monsters from the town, and Shera had lent a hand in making some "minor" communications repairs… at least as many as the overprotective, former Turk that was still somehow a Turk would allow. Thanks to her, reception was improving globally, and it was becoming easier to keep in contact. Further, Reeve had heard that Barret and Rude were building an unlikely friendship. Well, stranger things had happened.

Aeris and Elmyra were taking care of the children. The Widow Gainsborough had taken it upon herself to do that service, claiming it was about the only thing she had a use in. Additionally, the flower-girl's health was a bit more fragile than Shera's, and it was better for her to do something more relaxing than chasing monsters out of Midgar.

In all honesty, the executive did not know where Cloud had gone, and Aeris had been sketchy on the matter herself. It was as if the swordsman had just completely disappeared. He never did say what he was going to do during the meeting, just delegated tasks to the others. Since then, Reeve had not heard from him, but Aeris did not seem concerned, so the executive pushed that thought away to the back of his mind. With Sephiroth back, there were probably a lot of things that Cloud had to work out for himself, and if it was solitude he needed, then solitude he would be allowed.

Reeve was not sure how Sephiroth and Zack had spent the day, but he was none too concerned. He knew he could rely on Tseng and Elena to keep an eye on them. And if anything went awry… well, AVALANCHE would just have to take down the errant General once more. Though, he wished that they could all think of something more productive for the four of them to be accomplishing. They had only two weeks to find Balaam before it became too late to stop him.

Truthfully, Reeve did not really understand how a demi-god could have so much power that even his fellows feared him. The anima had been really vague on that point and had skirted around the issue, as if it was some big demi-deity secret. The executive had the feeling they were all going to find out at the worst possible moment. He worried that when they did, it was going to be something they would not be able to defeat.

Still, that irked him. What kind of power could a demi-god have that went beyond what Kami gave him? The idea of something so strong that none of them, even with their new powers, could come out victorious sent shivers down his spine.

And what had Reeve accomplished in the day since everyone had begun their work? He spent a most intriguing and fascinating day reading document after document, only to break the monotony to lift a finger and sign a dotted line. He organized what was left of SOLDIER into some sort of defensive unit for Midgar, arranged for those that survived from Junon, what few there were, to wait for transportation to Midgar, and he had placed several calls to both Cosmo Canyon and Wutai to get damage reports and estimates of the enemy's strength.

How very unsatisfying.

Yet, the entire time he couldn't help but think how much he missed the old days… when they wandered about the globe trying to hunt down Sephiroth, fighting for their lives, everyday something new and unexpected occurring. When he had more duties than sitting on his ass in a chair gone long uncomfortable, while his hand cramped itself into submission. Peace had supposedly come and gone on Gaia, to be replaced with the fires of war, and Reeve was wondering if in anything he had done that last six months had been peaceful. When was his rest?

"Fine then! Brood away. It's not as if I actually /wanted/ you to listen to me, yo." Reno's voice cut through his thoughts, causing Reeve to blink as he realized that he had inadvertently gone off on a mental tangent, leaving his lover in the lurch.

He sighed softly as he placed his hands over Reno. "Sorry, I was thinking," he apologized instantly before frowning and furrowing his brow. "I was not brooding."

He could feel Reno's grin and see a bit of it in the reflection from the glass of the window. "What is it with angsty people and not wanting to admit that they brood? I just don't understand it, yo."

"Reno," Reeve replied. "There are lots of things you don't understand. Don't worry about it."

The Turk paused for a moment before he burst out laughing. "Oh, I see. That was supposed to be funny. Well, ha ha, everyone make fun of Reno's intelligence. Yo, someday, I'll show you all how brilliant I am."

Reeve laughed softly, closing his eyes as he gave in to the comfort his lover always inevitably bestowed on him. "Just send me a postcard," he replied.

He pushed away all thoughts of darkness and failures as they stood there, looking out over a city he had been fighting to rebuild. The arms around his belly were a warm comfort as was his back, which was pressed to his mate. He fought off all coiling thoughts of something missing and firmly entrenched the idea in his head that he was happy; he needed nothing else.

Then, warm lips pressed to his neck before a wet tongue slid out, trailing over his skin and every one of the sensitive areas of his neck. A gentle nibble soon followed as Reno's breath ghosted over his skin.

"You're worrying about something," commented the Turk.

Reeve could feel Reno's skin tickling at his ear and neck, but he shook his head. "No," he denied. "I'm just wondering how it's all going to end."

The Turk raised a brow. "That's simple enough, really. We're going to find Balaam, drag him from his hidey-hole ,and kick the shit out of him until he stops all this madness, yo. Then, Kami's going to do 'something' about his errant demi-gods, and everything will turn back to normal."

"Normal," murmured Reeve. "I'd like to see what your definition of normal is."

Reno chuckled as he slid one of his hands lower, down the front of a still in shape belly and towards Reeve's groin. "For starters, I would like to encourage starting back some of our more lusty expeditions. How about it? Right here in front of the window." On top of the biting, Reno was an exhibitionist, and sadly, so was Reeve. Another reason they were perfect for each other.

His fingers brushed over the executive's front, a light touch that was more of a promise of things to come, and it made Reeve bite back a groan as his flesh began to swell. He could already feel the Turk's hardness beginning to press into him from behind.

"What do you say?" Reno questioned as he nibbled on his lover's ear, dropping his voice a to low, sexy octave, one that sent shivers across the executive's skin. "I know you're done signing your name half a billion times for the day, and I know for a fact everyone who was going to has reported in."

His fingers massaged over the building arousal as he pressed his own growing erection against Reeve's backside. Reno was tired; he was exhausted from bantering with Archer and mapping one-third of the ocean floor all day, but he wouldn't give up any moments with Reeve, not when they had so few just because his back sagged or he felt like collapsing on the bed and sleeping for years.

Reeve exhaled softly. "You're dangerous to me," he replied, his tone half-teasing as he gave in to the erotic caresses. Reno knew from the moment that he had walked in that Reeve wouldn't say no. It was all a matter of persuasion.

The Turk chuckled. "Really? Right here in front of the window and all? I knew that's what would excite you, yo," he teased, tongue scraping over the shell of Reeve's ear.

The executive made a strange sound in the back of his throat and pressed back against Reno's clothed groin. "Don't make me say it again."

Reno laughed, but he didn't say anything more as Reeve turned his head to the side. The two pressed their lips together, tongues quickly melding into a hot display of erotic intent. Until a knock at the executive's door had them both sighing and pulling apart with much reluctance.

"Should've waited until business hours were through," the redhead muttered, though he wasn't upset, merely making a statement.

Reeve nodded as he sighed softly, and they pulled back from each other, though they were still close enough to touch. "It's open," he called out.

The door opened, and Elena stuck her head in, grinning when she saw that only Reno and Reeve were present. "I'd hate to interrupt whatever you two were about to do," she said pleasantly, though she didn't sound repentant at all. "But I have a big favor to ask."

Reno sighed and turned to glare at her, though Reeve could tell that his actions were playful. "For you information, I was about to screw Reeve against this window, so it had better be good."

Amber eyes widened in surprise seconds before a blush crept into his cheeks, even though he was far too old to be doing such a thing. "Reno!" he admonished loudly.

However, the Turk just grinned and winked at him as Elena shook her head and came further into the room, Denzel and Marlene on her heels. This caused the executive to flush an even deeper red, though Reno only looked slightly repentant.

"What kind of favor, 'Lena," Reeve continued, shooting his partner another admonishing look.

The blonde grinned and gestured towards the two children. "I'm supposed to be watching them, but I've got something I need to do for an hour or so. Think you can handle it?"

Reno groaned, as if it was the greatest task in the world, while the executive made a pleased sound, immediately lighting up into a big smile.

"Of course, we can," Reeve answered. "Though my office is quite boring, they'll be safe here until you return." He walked towards Denzel and Marlene, bending down so that he could look them in the face, and he made a strange sort of expression that was an attempt at being entertaining. "We'll try and have fun, okay?"

"Great!" returned Elena. She gave the children a soft push into the room, nearly causing them to stumble before turning back and heading for the door. "I'll see you guys later, alright?" With a final wave, she disappeared, off to do "something."

Reno groaned and covered his face as he looked at the two children, who were standing side by side and looking up at the adults expectantly. He knew nothing about kids, and while it wasn't that he didn't like them, he just was never sure how to act in their presence. It wasn't like /he/ was a good role model. The Turk was the perfect example of what /not/ to become. As such, he was distinctly uncomfortable and wondered how to get out of the favor he had been roped into.

But Reeve… the executive seemed excited by the prospect. The Turk knew that his lover had one day wanted to have children, and he was always down at the orphanage if he had free time between ruining ShinRa, planning the wedding, and spending quiet moments with Reno. The redhead watched silently as his mate immediately put his hand on his chin, thinking about how he could entertain Denzel and Marlene, even though they were only going to be there for an hour. On the other hand, Reno was merely content to turn on the television and let them rot their minds until Elena returned.

But no, Reeve had to /talk/ to them. So while he stood somewhat awkwardly by, the executive proceeded to make conversation with the still silent children.

"So, what have you two been up to today?" questioned Reeve.

Marlene was the first to speak, and as Reno would later learn, the one to /most/ often speak as well. Whereas Denzel was quiet and somewhat withdrawn, keeping his distance from both the conversation and the two men themselves, Marlene was very talkative, willing to discuss nearly any topic. It probably had much to do with the fact she recognized the men as the ones that had fought with her father against the great "Sephiroth."

It was odd… the way Reno had never really thought about children. It was almost instinct for Reeve to respond to them, speaking naturally in simpler words so they could understand, inviting them into the conversation, and generally making them feel welcome. Meanwhile, the Turk stood by, merely observing. There was something about the smile on the executive's face, the secret light behind his eyes, that made Reno feel warm on the inside… and also a bit afraid. He didn't even want to think about why, not for the moment.

"Reno," Reeve called out, instantly drawing the red-haired Turk's attention. "We're going to watch some TV. Why don't you join us?"

Aquamarine eyes blinked before a lazy smile took over his face. "Can we watch cartoons, yo?" he asked teasingly, though there was a note of hope to his voice.

Reeve laughed easily. "You're such a child," he commented, though it was without scorn. He was merely teasing his lover. "I'm sure we can find something to entertain you."

The other man shrugged and joined the small group as they headed into the rest area next door to Reeve's office. While everyone sat down and watched reruns of old-time cartoons on the television, Reno couldn't help but return to his earlier thoughts. But as he was wont to do when he was bored, the Turk fell asleep, snoring lightly, while Reeve and the children laughed at the characters antics. He stayed that way until Elena returned nearly two hours later with Elmyra in tow.

By that time, the television had been turned off, and Reeve was playing a card game with the children, using a deck Marlene had had in her pocket. They didn't really know the rules that well, but it was entertaining nonetheless. Elena and Elmyra observed him for a moment, chuckling quietly at the sight of a softly snoring Reno and sharing secretive glances when Reeve ruffled Denzel's hair affectionately.

"Well, Denzel, it looks like you've won again," the President said with a chuckle. The boy practically beamed.

"Aww," Elena teased as she and Elmyra stepped into the room. "Isn't that just the cutest thing?"

Reeve's head snapped up at her entrance. He opened his mouth to respond, but she shushed him with a finger at her mouth and then pointed to the sleeping Reno. The executive nodded in understanding, and the two children began to smile mischievously, trying to giggle quietly.

The blonde stole towards the redhead, her boots not making a sound as she crept her way across the carpet until she stood before his half-reclined form. She briefly noticed that not even sleep could make her annoying friend angelic. However, a smirk stole over her features, and she jumped forward, grabbing his arms.

"The aliens are upon us!" she yelled as loudly as possible in his ear.

It was a Turk code phrase. Sort of like an inside joke.

Aquamarine eyes flew open, and his body jerked as he was thrust into wakefulness, Elena taking a step backwards. Reno's limbs flailed, and his heart beat wildly, head whipping back and forth looking for the presumed "aliens". He jumped to his feet with an arm hovering over where his Electro Rod should have been before registering that there was laughter surrounding him.

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. "That was not funny, Elena," he muttered irritably.

But the blonde Turk merely waved him off. "You're just embarrassed. It'll pass. Anyways, we're here to take the kids off your hands. I'm sure you two wanna get back to business." She said the last with a wink in Reeve's general direction, causing the man to redden slightly and cough. He turned and began to collect the cards from Marlene and Denzel.

Reno sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Elena always found a way to push his buttons, even when he was in a good mood. Yet, a sudden and insistent pressing on his bladder had him giving a half-hearted wave at the those present and leaving the room without even making a snappy comeback. Besides, his brief nap had left him feeling really weary. He was more than ready to grab Reeve and go home for the day.

As he walked down the hall, he couldn't help but turn his mind to the most recent events. He and Reeve had argued with him storming off in anger. Then, there was the mishap with Tifa and discovering his anima, which had really shocked him. Finally, there was their reunion and subsequent eloping, a sort of spur-of-the-moment decision for both of them. Reno had long suspected that the wedding was actually one of the things that stood between them, one of the events that was creating a rift.

Reeve didn't want a big wedding, and frankly, Reno didn't either. Yet, Elena and Aeris had latched onto the idea, and once their claws had sunk, there was no escape. Truthfully, they hadn't wanted to disappoint the elated females either, but the executive had always been sort of slow and plodding when it came to their relationship, even from the beginning. After all, before he met Reno, Reeve had been straight.

But there was something that sparked when their eyes met, something that surpassed gender reaching out to the person beneath the sex. It was an inescapable pull that neither could resist, and even though they had to hide their feelings, their relationship, Reno wouldn't have given it up for anything. For Reeve it was simple enough. He would die if necessary, and the fight with Sephiroth six months prior had confirmed that.

Staring into the mirror above the wash basin as he soaped up his hands, Reno couldn't help but idly wonder how a street-born fuck-up like himself could actually find his way out of the gutter and into the arms of someone like Reeve. Fate had been altogether too kind to him, despite the trials of his youth. Seriously, if he lived the rest of his life with only the executive, he could consider himself needing nothing else.

On the verge of becoming overly warm and fluffy, two emotions that he didn't want anyone else to know he actual enjoyed exhibiting, Reno wiped his hands off with a towel and threw it in the trash. He headed back down the hall towards the rest room. As he approached the doorway, he managed to catch the tail end of a conversation between Elmyra and Elena as they left, each with a child in hand.

"If Reno hadn't been asleep, I wouldn't have known what to think," Mrs. Gainsborough commented. "I was worried he'd have them running around like little hellions." The redhead quirked a smile at that, his ears perking up at Elena's response.

"Yes, I agree. Still, Reeve would make a great father, don't you think?"

The widow laughed lightly. "Can you just imagine if he and Reno were able to have kids?"

The blonde Turk snickered in response as they came around the bend of the hall. "Lord help us all if Reno were to ever procreate," she teased seconds before she caught sight of the red-haired Turk approaching them from the opposite side of the hall. "Well, speak of the devil, himself."

"Don't mind me, yo," he drawled, moving aside so they could pass. "I'm just going to reintroduce Reeve to that lovely view from this office window… the one you so kindly interrupted earlier."

He gave them a smirk as they went by, but it didn't reach his eyes. Their words struck him deep inside, and he knew they were true.

The widow blushed faintly, but Elena merely chuckled. "You go do that, then," she replied as Denzel tugged on her hand. "Now that the kids are out of the way." She laughed again and the foursome went the rest of the way down the hall.

Marlene cast a look back at him as she waved goodbye, and Reno flashed her one of his cocksure grins. She smiled cheekily, and the group faded down the corridor. The redheaded Turk paused briefly in thought before shaking his head and continuing on his path, stepping into the rest room with his gaze instantly falling on the amber-eyed executive.

Reeve looked up at his entrance and smiled, eyes lighting up. "You sure took a while." He raised a brow as he appraised his lover. "Did you have to take care of a problem?"

Reno smiled, leaning casually against the door frame. His aquamarine eyes sparkled. "Was savin' it for you, yo."

He pushed all thoughts of the conversation between Elena and Elmyra out of his mind when Reeve gave him a mischievous grin in response. There would always be time for deep thought later. For the moment, however, he had a window that he was dying to introduce him to.

---

Tseng sighed as he sat back in his expensive desk chair and twirled it around, facing the shuttered window. One hand rose to his forehead, and he rubbed his aching skull absentmindedly, eyes closed. The other hand rested on the arm of the chair, tapping in a slow steady rhythm. He could not concentrate on his work, no matter how many cups of coffee he chugged or how many deep, soothing breaths he forced his body to accept. His mind kept drifting to other matters, matters outside the running of ShinRa.

Every time he tried to look at a report of the new monsters his thoughts began to wander, and generally, they always seemed to work themselves to Sephiroth and why the man had disappeared with Vincent. The former General had never returned to the arena after walking away with the ex-Turk, leaving Tseng to ponder why the gunman would seek him out to begin with.

Sephiroth had said unfinished business, but what sort of business could two men with thirty years between them have?

Tseng vaguely knew the details of what had occurred when Vincent disappeared those years prior, but the truth of Valentine had been hush-hush, not even available to his curious eyes. Veld had sealed the documents concerning the prior Turk commander, and no one had been allowed to know what had happened to him. As a result, Vincent Valentine had become almost a stigma among the Turks. A warning, if you will. No one knew what the man had done, but everyone was convinced that although one of the best, Valentine had made a fatal error in crossing ShinRa somewhere along the way.

All that Tseng knew was that Vincent's last mission had been to guard Dr. Gast and Dr. Hojo along with their assistant Lucrecia Crescent as they performed research on a supposed "ancient" in Nibelheim. The files didn't state what happened after that, merely labeled with a "Complete" tag and shoved into the darkest corners of the Turk filing system. Tseng had the feeling that ShinRa was either trying to hide something, or Valentine had somehow, somewhere gotten in way over his head. Still, as of late, he hadn't had the opportunity to question Vincent nor did he really seem the type that was readily approachable.

It was an event that both confused and intrigued Tseng, making him want to delve deep into the mystery of one of the most infamous Turks. This, in turn, brought him back to circuitous thoughts of Sephiroth and what connection he and the ex-Turk had.

Truthfully, Tseng couldn't deny that his interest in Sephiroth was just idle curiosity. He was willing to admit, if only to himself, the strange attraction that he had suddenly developed for the former General. Well, suddenly would be the wrong word. He had always had the smallest bit of fascination for Sephiroth, even from five years prior when the man had still been the greatest General ShinRa had ever known. Even then, Tseng had desired the man. There was something about Sephiroth that instantly captivated his attention.

Now, the Turk commander was caught between his desire for the man and the truth that Sephiroth had once tried to destroy Gaia. Whether or not it had been him within the body was null and void. Every time he looked at the former General, he couldn't help but see the smirk, light flashing across a familiar silver blade, and the burning searing pain of being sliced through the abdomen. It was hard to distinguish within himself the Sephiroth that had attempted to slay him and the Sephiroth that was here now.

Yet, he couldn't deny that he was attracted to him either. Just the sight of him recalled all the feelings he had pushed aside five years prior, causing him to blush uncontrollably and filling him with all very conflicting emotions: anger, hurt, pride, desire. And they were all twisted and coiled within him until they became a knot of anxiety that left him without an appetite, tossing and turning in his sleep.

That along with the problem of the voices was enough to drive him mad… if he wasn't already.

Tseng sighed and turned his chair to its proper state, picking up a ballpoint pen and scanning the documents before him as he was supposed to. However, the moment his silver eyes started to look over the words, his mind wandered again, blurring the black and white lettering until it was nothing more than a indistinguishable conflagration of swirled nonsense.

He wondered when he had stopped clinging so tightly to the stringent rules of Dao-Chao, the religion that had been a basis of his upbringing for much of his young life.

Was it when his parents were sent away from the only home they had known because his mother was gifted? Was it when he discovered he preferred the company of men over woman, yet another abomination? Or was it when he discovered that no matter how much he prayed, it still didn't stop his mother from crying… or his father from solemnly staring out at the sky for hours at a time?

He had always been taught that the words of Dao-Chao were law, that there was no other purpose outside of the god's design. He had been taught that men and women were by rights the only acceptable pairing, that voices within one's own mind were products of witchcraft, that families were to always remain loyal… that treason was the ultimate sin, punishable by death. And that obedience was the greatest form of worship. He could go on within his mind, but it would only lead him down a spiraling path of confusion and regret.

For all intents and purposes, his entire person was an abomination to the teachings of Dao-Chao. Voices haunted his mind from night to day, and his dreams were filled with desires for men. He even worked for ShinRa, the greatest embodiment of sin and destruction to the teachings of the Wutaiian people. According to them, he was the ultimate traitor, even if only by association. As such, he had been branded with the jewel on his forehead, even before he had reached adulthood, and it burned like a fire on days when he chose to remind himself of his family's pain and sorrows.

It was an endless circuit of weary ponderings and no real conclusions. He longed for a much simpler existence, but not even pretending the voices didn't exist made it easer. Instead, it caused him agony; the mental strain of blocking them out pushed his strength to its limits. It was no wonder that the return of Sephiroth was the final catalyst to his breakdown.

Tseng bit back a sigh and resisted the urge to bang his head on the desk in irritation and annoyance. If only he had something other than paperwork to do so that he would not be given plenty of time to just muse on all of his faults and weaknesses!

A sudden knock at his office door startled him, causing him to look up in surprise. Who would be calling on him? Another moment later, he finally found his voice and cleared his throat, calling for the visitor to enter.

The door opened just slightly, and Aeris stuck her head in, a big smile on her face. "Hey, Tseng. Are you busy?" she questioned.

It was easy for him to return her smile, the flower-girl always seeming to have a somewhat calming effect on him. Aeris had been his one attempt at pretending to be heterosexual. But unfortunately for him, Reno had seen right through his carefully crafted hints towards his affections. Point blank, the redhead had told Tseng to stop denying it, that he and Rude were not bothered by the fact that he liked men. It was one of the few times that his hot-headed subordinate had displayed his rarely seen tact.

Tseng gestured towards his papers. "There is nothing but boring documents. I would welcome any distraction."

Aeris beamed at him, slipping inside the room with grace, despite her rounded belly, and plopped down in the only available chair, her jade eyes sparkling merrily. "What kind of papers?" she questioned, making casual conversation, but her gaze instantly took in the appearance of his office, almost immediately noticing the OCD-like organization to everything. He had a theory that if he kept his office and home neat, then the rest of his life would fall into place. It hadn't worked yet, but he was still trying.

Tseng shrugged elegantly, laying down the pen and focusing his attention on her. "These are simply reports on the monsters escaped from Hojo's lab, the sort of thing your husband has been helping me slay."

She nodded in response, shifting slightly in her seat before fixing her gaze directly on him. "You're looking… not too well, Tseng," the flower-girl said softly, getting straight to the point. That was how it had always been with them, ever since the first moment that he had met the Ancient, long ago when it had been his purpose to capture her and return her to ShinRa.

He had always known her location of course, but after meeting the flower-girl for himself, he was loathe to allow her into Hojo's hold. He knew of the scientist's psychotic nature and didn't want to see such a beautiful and kind girl in his hands. So Tseng lied and sent the Turks to false locations, never letting on that he knew exactly where to find her.

Back then, Aeris had looked him in the eye and said, _"I do not blame you, Mr. Turk. This is just your job." _

Just a job, indeed. Tseng still had some integrity left. ShinRa had not managed to beat it all out of him. He was surprised by her courage, inspired by her forgiveness, and hopelessly helpless in light of her truth. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to lie to her.

"I will admit things are not going well," he responded after a moment, gaze falling to the desk in front of him. "I suppose you already knew that."

She smiled faintly, a movement he caught from the corner of his eye. "They are merely concerned for you, Tseng. Especially Elena. She worries that she will lose the man she looks up to, her mentor." Aeris leaned forward in her seat, one of her hands coming to rest on his own, causing him to look up at her. "It is not easy bearing the burdens on your own shoulders. Believe me, I know."

He exhaled. "Perhaps you are correct, but I have kept it locked for so long, I believe I have forgotten where I have placed the key. Nor do I think I can easily give my heart to someone, anyone for that matter. Not when it has been ingrained so deeply within me that everything I am… is wrong."

Aeris nodded. "When I first started to hear the voices, the screams in the middle of the night, I was scared, too. When ghosts popped out of the shadows and begged me to deliver their messages and a horde of nameless and indistinguishable cries reached my ears, I wanted to run and hide." She paused, her eyes darkening for just a moment. "It took a lot of courage and faith in myself before I even listened to what they were saying. And after that, I didn't feel alone anymore."

Alone.

It was a thing that Tseng knew all too well, the consuming emptiness deep inside because no one understood. He lowered his gaze in thought as he considered her words.

Aeris continued as he was absorbing it all, the words striking a deep chord in him. "You may have been born in Wutai, Tseng, but your home, your family… those that care about you, they exist here. And I assure you that no matter what they think of you, we are not going to leave you. Beliefs are what you make of them, good and evil from the perspective of your heart, not driven in pre-established notions."

Her words echoed in his mind, bouncing back and forth within his cranial cavity and causing him to furrow his brow in thought. For so long he had restricted his actions to those that could be rationalized, those that could be explained and understood. The voices belonged in the category of the supernatural, so he pushed them away. Forming attachments was a grave error that resulted in him making foolish mistakes.

Perhaps it was time he changed his way of thinking.

A small smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "Elena sent you, didn't she?" he questioned.

Aeris laughed as she shook her head. "Believe it or not… no. I was responding to something a bit deeper than that. I know that I don't have the right words to just say something and make it all click for you, but I do hope I have given you food for thought to make it easier."

The Wutaiian nodded. "That you have. I must admit that I was brooding before you came, and now, I'll probably be brooding more, though it will more than likely have more results."

There was another friendly grin before Aeris patted his hand and slowly, laboriously rose to her feet, wincing a little as a hand went to her belly. "Well, I'll let you get back to work. I have to go find my husband. Last I heard, he was wandering about the building."

"I think he's near the training center. I passed him on my way here. He may or may not have been looking for Zack," Tseng informed her.

"Thanks," she said with a wink. "I'll see you later, Tseng. Don't work too hard. And think about it, kay?"

He inclined his head. "I will. Take care, Aeris."

With that, the flower-girl disappeared out the door with it clicking shut silently behind her. The entire conversation had taken less than ten minutes, but already, he felt somewhat calmer. His emotions were still swirling, his thoughts in disarray, but Aeris had brought up some valid points that he would have to consider. Somehow, though she had thought she didn't, she knew the exact words to say.

The perspective of his heart, indeed.

With a slight smile quirking at the corner of his lips, Tseng picked up his pen and returned his attention to the boring documents. It was high time he got some work done.

---

A/N: A somewhat longer than usual chapter but you might want to get used to it. All the recent ones are starting to extend. Don't know why...

I think I've lost what little bit of readers, I had for this. It seems to be more popular on the adult sites. Oh well. If anyone's still enjoying this, let me know. Please?


	45. The Choices We Make

Well, I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this but I thought I'd update it here anyways, just in case.

(Voice in Head)

'Internal Thought'

"Conversation"

_Flashback_

**Chapter 45: The Choices We Make**

The whir of the buffer was a pleasing sound to his ears. It was a reassuring sound, and although he felt extremely lonely, it always reminded him that there was somewhere he could turn to pour out his heart. Archer smiled to himself as he pulled the metal emblem away from the machine and held it up to the light, scrutinizing the edges with a delicate eye before determining it would need a few more seconds on the buffer. With a slight click, the machine started up again, and he returned to his thoughts.

Reno and he had been unsuccessful in locating anything important in terms of Balaam's location, though they had run into a strange and large, green-plated monster beneath the sea. They had steered clear, however, and the creature made no attempts to attack them. Neither man had seen it before, but Archer dubbed it "Emerald Monster" since it looked just like the green gem.

With their attempts inconclusive, both men had returned to Midgar empty-handed. Reno had immediately sought out Reeve, waving a half-hearted goodbye at the engineer, and Archer was left to his own devices. Not really interested in returning to his empty home or his empty room aboard the Highwind, which was unfortunately located just next door to Cid's, he headed for his workshop in the ShinRa building. He could easily lose himself among the smells of machinery and his greatest passion: creating things from metal, shaping the shining material into something worth looking at.

"Now, you are beginning to sound the part of a broody man," came a familiar voice as Tiamat appeared behind him, her soft chuckle echoing in his ears. Archer didn't even bother to turn around as he raised an eyebrow, pulling the metal design off the buffer and eyeing it carefully once more. It was no small wonder where the inspiration for the silvery-white dragon came from.

"Practice makes perfect," he countered easily, satisfied with the way the charm had turned out before grabbing some nearby gems for the empty eye sockets. "And unfortunately, I have had far more practice than I am satisfied with."

A head laid itself on his shoulder as the white-maned demi-goddess peered at the design. "My poor dragonet," she clucked sympathetically. "However, I will not deny that your depression certainly produces fine artwork."

"It is easy enough when one of the most beautiful females in existence just happens to be a demi-goddess that lives within your head," Archer countered easily, waxing poetic with the barest amount of thought. The few women he had courted in his life had always told him that words dripped from his lips like sugar.

Tiamat laughed again before straightening, lightly cuffing him on the back of his head. "I dare you to let Seiryu hear that and see what he thinks," she warned though her obvious mirth shone through. Her fingers delicately ran through his hair a second later. "I do not see how sulking about your situation is going to abate your loneliness."

Archer sighed. "Frankly, I don't either, but it's the best idea I have right now." He glanced over his shoulder, as if confirming the eye color of the demi-goddess before selecting two blue-violet diamonds. He grabbed some random device that would shave them down to the correct size and got to work.

The demi-goddess was quiet for a moment as she observed him, knowing the true reason behind his isolation. "You still miss him," Tiamat commented softly, moving around him so that she could look her animus straight in the eye.

The engineer went still as he placed his hands down on the table, ignoring his creation for the moment. "Is it that obvious?" he questioned softly, unable to meet her probing gaze.

"Only to me as I can easily see inside your heart… as well as your mind," the Myst dragon answered. "Still, there are times I am sure it was difficult for you to conceal it from the others."

He exhaled, idly running a hand through his hair, tangling his fingers in the black strands, and accidentally pulling out the small tie. "Have you ever made a mistake… and then spent the rest of your life regretting your decision?" he questioned. "Everyday I get to see the fruits of my irrationality and stupidity, and it hurts. But as much as I wish I could have him back, I see how happy he is with Vincent, how desperately /in love/ he is with him, and I know I can't break that up… not that I would try."

"You more than miss him," Tiamat responded with a hint of surprise, her hand cupping his cheek. "You still love him… and not just as a friend." She should have known, having easy access to his inner thoughts and emotions, but she had afforded her beloved child his privacy. Nonetheless, it worried her. Was he only fooling himself with this sudden reverberation of love for a lost mate when before it had been the concern of a friend?

The engineer nodded. "Hopelessly."

Tiamat shook her head solemnly. "Dearest heart, I do not know what I am to do with you."

A small smile graced Archer's face. "If it's any consolation, I do not know either."

But the expression was grim. He heartily wished he had never allowed Cid Highwind away from him all those years ago.

The dragoness ran her hand through his hair again, watching him with sad eyes. A thought formed on the edge of her conscious, but she hesitated in saying it. She didn't want to hurt his feelings nor make him feel even more the failure, but she also did not want him to make any mistakes. Tiamat didn't want him to attempt something that could never be, not that she thought Archer would actually try to divide Cid and Vincent. Yet, stranger things had been done for love.

"You're considering something," her little hatchling pointed out, as if he could tell the storm brewing in her features.

Tiamat inclined her head. "Have you ever considered…" She paused, changing her wording slightly so as not to offend. "Now, do not be angry with me, dragonet. After all, I cannot know every curve of your heart, but have you thought that perhaps you do not still love him. Perhaps you simply crave what you cannot have… or you desire what he does possess: a mate."

Amethyst eyes turned down towards the table, one hand idly playing with the trinket he had created, running a thumb down the carefully crafted side. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "I'm not sure what to think anymore."

Tiamat sympathetically wrapped her arms around his middle, humming gently to him as she had to her biological hatchlings when they were young. One hand went to run through his hair in a movement she knew would soothe him as she ran through the proper responses in her head. She was about to give him a suggestion when they were interrupted by a strange scratching thump on the outside of the door.

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Archer slipped free and moved towards the door, Tiamat watching from afar. He opened it and looked into the hall, finding a rather embarrassed Nanaki gazing up at him. His eyes widened in surprise and unintentionally, he raised a brow in slight surprise.

"I apologize," the lion wolf uttered by way of explanation, "but in this form I am incapable of knocking."

Archer chuckled lightly, bemused by Nanaki's attempt and the fact that he felt it was necessary to apologize. "That's quite alright. Were you looking for me?"

Nanaki nodded. "Are you busy? I'm in need of your aid."

A slight tingle at the back of Kyle's head was all the proof he needed that Tiamat had already made herself scarce, momentarily considering their conversation over. With an accommodating smile, Archer pushed the door all the way open and gestured Nanaki inside.

"I'm guessing Reeve told you I was here, assuming he knew from Reno?" Kyle asked as Nanaki padded inside.

Golden eyes gazed about the room, taking in the many tables filled with mysterious objects he knew nothing of and the general cluttered look. "Yes, I tried your home… but, of course, received no answer."

"I don't spend much time there," Archer responded, pushing the door shut and returning to his seat at the work table. "So what can I do for you?"

"I heard you were a metalsmith of sorts," Nanaki responded, getting straight to the point. He sat on his haunches in the room, unable to stop his curiosity from sweeping about the room in great arcs, absorbing every detail. Archer raised another eyebrow, feeling a vague echo of Yuffie's visit the previous day.

He shrugged elegantly. "A mere hobby… though I am surprised so many people know about it." The engineer fiddled with his newest project, wondering what Nanaki had come to him for.

In turn, the other male cleared his throat, an almost strange sound coming from his lupine form as he regarded Archer evenly. Before he spoke, he raised one of his paws, showing remarkable dexterity as he plucked a materia from his armlet and holding it out to the engineer, who gently took it. The small greenish orb swirled and pulsed lightly in Kyle's hand. Again, Archer couldn't help but raise a brow.

"I want that made into a necklace, simple in design, yet also refined with a hint of mischievousness," Nanaki explained a bit unsure of himself, sounding almost as if he were embarrassed.

"Like a certain someone we both know?" Archer teased as he rolled the materia back and forth in his hand, instantly recognizing it as the lion wolf's favorite: Earth.

If it were possible for someone of Nanaki's kind, the engineer was certain the lion wolf was blushing. His eyes lowered, and he stared at the floor. In the back of his mind, he could hear Tiamat nearly cooing with the cuteness of it all. Demi-beings were very odd at times.

"It is a gift," the other male mumbled.

Archer laughed. "It's alright; I understand completely," he responded, instantly remembering the visit from the day before. They were just too damned cute! He couldn't help but wonder if he had ever been that young. "How soon do you need it?"

Nanaki pondered the question, still fighting down his lingering embarrassment. "I wouldn't want to take time away from finding Balaam, but I would like to give the gift before we leave once he is located."

The engineer bit his lip to keep from beaming, another teasing taunt on the edge of his tongue with Tiamat giggling in the background. However, he couldn't help it when he wriggled his eyebrows and the words came out on their own… really, he couldn't. It was entirely an accident.

"As sort of a 'fare thee well I'll always be with you' type gift, eh?"

He swore that Nanaki flushed again, even as he shook his head, little beads clacking one against the other. "Just a gift from friend to friend. Perhaps an apology."

"For what?" Archer couldn't help it, curiosity eating at him now that Yuffie and he had a heart to heart. He really wanted to hear Nanaki's side as well.

The lion wolf sighed, looking down at the floor once more. "I've been rather… cold to her as of late. We are friends above all. Nothing should change that, not my form. No matter what happens in the future, we'll always be that."

'Ah, you say that, my friend, but you would wish it to be more,' the engineer put in internally. However, he didn't voice it aloud as the lion wolf was skittish.

"I'll get to it right away," were the words that ended up escaping from his mind instead.

"Thank you," Nanaki replied with a slight bow of his head before he rose to his feet. "I have to be going now, packing and such. We're leaving first thing in the morning for Wutai." As he moved towards the exit, Archer laid the gleaming materia on the counter, rising to open the door for the lion wolf.

"It's no problem," the engineer intoned as he turned the knob. "Over the past six months, all of you have become my closest friends. I'm actually flattered that you would come to me."

Nanaki padded out into the corridor, turning about and ducking his head just slightly in agreement. "We have always been more than friends, Archer. We are all family." He paused before grinning wolfishly. "A demented and rather insane one… but family nonetheless."

Archer beamed in return. "I would say it is an honor, but I'm not sure if it would be a slight on my own sanity, so I'll just say thank you once again."

The lion wolf laughed softly as he padded away. "I'm still not certain myself," came his reply as he disappeared down the hall towards the elevator. Archer watched his exit for all of a moment before shaking his head and chuckling, turning back towards his abandoned work and desk.

With a flash, Tiamat appeared again. He didn't know why she bothered to disappear, except that perhaps she knew Nanaki would have preferred his request to remain private. She was smiling beautifully as she watched her animus return to his seat, pick up the buffer, and get back to work on the amethyst stone. The green materia was still lying on the table.

"I find it amusing that both would come to you, nearly within twenty-four hours of one another," the demi-goddess commented as she watched him do what he did best.

The engineer shook his head. "As do I. It is comforting to know, however, that I am trusted." He truly wished the two the best in overcoming their problems… now, if only he could solve his own. His attempts at broodiness were beginning to get easier and easier, despite trying to remain lighthearted? When had he become so infected with despair?

Tiamat watched him with curious eyes, knowing full well the conflicting emotions that were raging inside, she but didn't say a word. At the moment, Archer did not need the words of a nearly ageless being, but that of his mortal friends. And given the situation, with the war so near, no one really had the time. Such was the way in periods of conflict.

It was an unfortunate and sobering truth.

---

(A/N: To understand this scene, I would strongly suggest reading Episode 4 of Misunderstood first. I make several references to it that I will not explain.)

Sephiroth always found that he thought best when he lost himself to the rhythm of practice, swinging the blade in a dance of intricate moves and twisting through the air with the dance of war. Still, he knew that the arena was occupied at the moment, and he didn't want the questions, not when he had so many of his own broiling about his head.

So he found himself borrowing Zack's favorite thinking spot, sitting on the roof of the Neo-ShinRa building with his legs over the side of the ledge. It was hot on the roof, the sun glaring down on him and his all black clothing, causing him to sweat profusely and pull his hair back off his neck. Regardless, he didn't really want to go indoors. He hated to be enclosed, especially when he had something to brood on.

When Vincent had approached him, he wasn't sure what to expect. He still remembered the strange words the man had whispered before slaying his Jenova-infested body, while the ex-Turk himself was in his Chaos form. However, he had never thought much of them, chalking up the words to his imagination. At the time, he wasn't really very coherent, but then, the dark-haired man had come to him in the midst of his practice and asked to speak to him. Vincent had cut his own search short and sought Sephiroth out for a purpose.

Yet, the man refused to speak until they were alone….

_They stood in a small conference room in the ShinRa building, neither of them really willing to sit. Vincent seemed distracted, almost as if he were forming his words carefully and seeming like he hadn't really made up his mind yet. He hovered near the table, closest to the door. Sephiroth furrowed his brow, wondering what the ex-Turk would have to say to him but remained silent, allowing Vincent the time he needed to compose himself. He, in turn, was near a chair, contemplating whether or not he should sit upon it when, finally, the gunman spoke. _

_He looked up, grey eyes locking onto the former General. "What do you know of your origins?" The question was point blank, no skirting around the issues. _

_For the moment, Sephiroth was taken aback by the abrupt question. He frowned, looking down to the ground as he considered. _

_"I was raised as a ward of ShinRa… Hojo made it absolutely clear to me that his genetics were a part of mine and my mother was Jenova," the ex-SOLDIER responded thoughtfully._

"_But she is not," Vincent countered simply. "You had a human mother, Sephiroth. Her name was Lucrecia." There was a tone to the gunman's voice that the slightly taller man wasn't sure he recognized. It was reminiscent of regret and bitterness, tinged with hurt and anger. Once again, the words from that fateful day echoed within him. _

_Sephiroth's head snapped up, and he regarded the ex-Turk with a rather cold expression. "How do you know?" he demanded before stalking closer to the gunman. "How is it that you have so much knowledge of my past when there are no clear records of anything?" _

_Vincent inclined his head, easily meeting the other man's gaze. He was not alarmed in the slightest. "I was there, thirty years ago, when Hojo and Lucrecia first embarked on their quest to defy the laws of nature." _

_The former General was confused as Vincent certainly didn't look like a man who was somewhere around sixty years old. "You…?" He searched for the right question. "What?" _

_The ex-Turk merely frowned. "I did not come to divulge my secrets… but to ask if you wanted to know meet your mother… your /true/ mother." _

"_I--" Sephiroth faltered, never having truly thought he would ever really find the woman who had birthed him. "I don't…" _

"_We will leave tomorrow, utilizing chocobos as it is quite difficult to reach her location." The ex-Turk paused, considering his words as he regarded the former General with an even, stone-grey gaze. "This is your opportunity to find the untainted truth from the mouth of someone who knows. Perhaps afterwards, I will answer your questions concerning my person." _

_The younger man sighed as he absorbed the sudden influx of information and the question he had not been prepared for. He absentmindedly ran an anxious hand through his hair before meeting those curious eyes. What was it about the ex-Turk that seemed so familiar? Why had he said those words? The opportunity to get many of his questions answered was too much for him to pass up. _

_He nodded slowly. "I will go with you to see my mother." _

"_Very well. And if you would like your friend to come, he may accompany us." Who the gunman was referring to needed no explanation. It was well known that the former General felt the most comfortable when he was around Zack, even their five year separation had not managed to dilute that fact. _

_A sudden thought occurred to the younger man at Vincent's suggestion. "Will Cid be coming?" Sephiroth inquired, feeling the need to ask. _

_Something flickered behind Vincent's eyes, but he shook his head negatively. "No. This is between you, I, and our pasts. My future has no place on this journey." _

_Sephiroth inclined his head in understanding. "Clearly." _

_An eyebrow twitched. "We will leave at noon. Meet me at the chocobo paddocks on the basement level." With that said, Vincent turned on his heels and headed for the door, considering their rather short conversation to be over. Yet, before he could get through the entryway, Sephiroth's quiet voice stopped him in his tracks. _

"_Why did you say those things?" Again, it was obvious to what the former General was referring. _

_The ex-Turk seemed to ponder on the query, though he did not turn around. "Perhaps after you meet her, you will understand," came the final cryptic response. _

_Without another word, Vincent continued out the door, leaving no room for further questioning. Sephiroth was left to his own devices and his own confusing, swirling thoughts. _

That had been almost two hours ago.

(And yet you are still brooding about it,) Gilgamesh stated, the demi-god making his presence known. (You have already made your choice. Why continue to pick apart every last nuance?)

"Because I can," the former General responded unreasonably before returning to his musings. There were times Gilgamesh had important things to say, and then, there were times he was just speaking because he was bored. Sephiroth had the feeling that this was one of the latter.

Directly after Vincent had left, Sephiroth had continued to stand for several moments in silent contemplation before seeking out his own place to brood in peace. Obviously, the ex-Turk knew the most of his origins, the same truths that Hojo had always neglected to speak to him. Still, the timeline confused him.

Though he had memories of stumbling across the name "Valentine" in Hojo's documents the first time he had come to Nibelheim and scattered remnants of nightmares when he had first encountered the dark-haired "thing" that was his mother's killer as Hojo claimed, he wondered how the Vincent he had just spoken to was connected to it all.

Why would the man even seek him out at all? It wasn't as if he owed Sephiroth this favor, this truth about his mother. To come to him, seemingly out of nowhere, hedging about the facts and claiming that it would all come out after… he just knew that there was something Vincent was hiding and wasn't sure if he was ready to say yet. The ex-Turk was remarkably easy to understand, even after only a few moments of talking to him. He sensed a kinship with the man, the same taint of Hojo in his wary gaze.

In some way, Hojo had managed to defile everyone he touched, corrupting them so that it was visible to those of the same fate, and they could always recognize others with a similar contamination. It was a look to the eye, a haunted yet furious gleam. Rather than destroy the hope of his creations, more often than not, Hojo managed to reforge them into something stronger, yet invariably cracked and twisted. It was an almost cruel irony, to escape the claws of the mad scientist, only to be forever infected with his inhumanity.

Sephiroth loathed that part of himself, the half of his genes that made Hojo his father. That was one of the things that had always separated him from the other boys at the dorms when he was just beginning in ShinRa. Most of their fathers were proud of them, loved them, encouraged them… and what he did get? Rebukes for his failures, pain that was a part of "maturing and becoming strong", taunts of uselessness, and test after test in a growing repertoire of a madman that was determined to make him into the ultimate SOLDIER.

(And he succeeded,) Gilgamesh muttered, his voice dripping with distaste. The demi-god held no love for Hojo either, knowing the pain that the scientist had caused his animus.

Sephiroth nodded in agreement. "That he did, but his victory was his undoing. My madness invoked the revenge that caused his death… a rather fitting end and at the hands of the pilot, no less, or so I heard." A friendly flower-girl had been his source of information for that when he had pulled her aside for a moment to ask what had actually occurred.

Thoughts of Hojo inevitably returned his musings to the past, memories of things he would rather forget, and what he had become floated to the surface. He had been stripped of his humanity, turned into a being with blood so mako infected that it was poisonous to others. Emotions had been sufficiently absent in his thoughts, and let him not forget his skills of deadly precision. He had been nothing more than a machine, an organic one… but a machine still.

He had been general of an army at the age of eighteen. He had won a war before he was twenty-one. Nothing in his life could be considered normal. His past was nothing more than a continuous barrage of mako injections and training, the monotony not even enough to be noticed because all sense of feeling had been buried beneath layers of stoicism.

It wasn't until a grinning man with a head of dark spiky hair and a stubborn tenaciousness forced himself into Sephiroth's life that he even realized there was still some humanity left, though it was deeply hidden. He owed a great deal to Zack for many things, the least of which he would be repaying for the rest of his unnatural life. As a result, the spiky-haired man was the only person on Gaia that Sephiroth trusted, Gilgamesh and Masa excluded.

And speaking of chocobos, he really ought to check on her welfare before leaving for wherever he was going with the ex-Turk. Then again, Masa was a mountain chocobo... perhaps he should take her?

(He is an interesting one, the forgotten host,) Gilgamesh commented with a musing sigh as the General's mind wandered, and Sephiroth could just imagine the cloaked demi-god to be rubbing his chin with two fingers. (He is very difficult to read, wearing secrets like they were a cloak.)

"Yes," his animus answered aloud, weary of speaking within his own head. "But what secrets? What exactly will I learn tomorrow? Is it more than the meeting of my mother? I sense there is something more to the entire matter… lest he would have never sought me out in the first place."

"Who sought you out? Not my competition I hope?" came the loudly called question in a teasing and very familiar voice. The door slammed shut behind the interloper, who didn't bother to close it gently, as boots trod across the rooftowards the perched General.

Sephiroth sighed. "My dear friend, I pity the person who has to compete with you," he responded, half-looking over his shoulder, finding that the spiky-haired man was grinning as he strode towards him. That unfailing self-assured grin… Sephiroth knew it was something that Zack would never lose.

The other man laughed as he moved to sit beside Sephiroth, nearly an exact repeat of what had occurred the day before except now their roles had reversed. "I always knew you wanted to be just like me," the ex-SOLDIER teased, gently nudging his companion with his shoulder.

"Merely a convenience." Sephiroth sniffed haughtily, turning his gaze back to the horizon and idly fiddling with one of his buckles. It took a moment for him to realize what he was doing, suddenly quitting the action altogether. "The training center was occupied, and I didn't want any questions."

"Does that mean I can't ask any?" Zack queried, crystalline eyes never leaving his closest friend. He could tell with just a look that the former General was thinking of something, and that he was angsting over some event or truth that he had recently discovered. It was painfully easy to read Sephiroth sometimes, and Zack had learned how to slip underneath the other man's mask.

The other man didn't respond, however, going silent for a moment as he contemplated the sky. Why was it that night always fell swifter in Midgar? The sun would slowly set, gently trailing down the sky, until it would suddenly plunge beneath the horizon, bathing the lands in twilight. Still, that only lasted for a few minutes before darkness covered everything, stars slowly twinkling into life, one by one. It was both intriguing and beautiful.

"I spoke with Valentine today," Sephiroth said, seemingly out of nowhere. He did not look at Zack as he spoke, instead his steady gaze looking out at nothing.

"The ex-Turk?" Zack questioned, mildly surprised. "The one that killed you? Why?"

"He came to me," the former General answered before turning to face his friend. "He claims he can take me to my mother."

Eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline in question. "How's that?"

Sephiroth shrugged elegantly, a decidedly graceful motion on him. "I can't say. He was very vague… and secretive, I might add. And he refused to answer my questions until after I met… her, saying that I would understand better then."

To be honest, even to himself, it all sounded like a trap. Only, he knew Vincent was not going to attempt to kill him. The only person who seemed like they desired his death was Cloud, and Sephiroth had the feeling there was a story behind that as well. The others merely regarded him with distrust, tolerating his existence but not really accepting him. Excluding Tseng, Aeris, and Zack, Sephiroth felt like the entire world despised him… which was probably what he deserved considering his past misdeeds.

Zack peered at him, as if trying to decipher his inner thoughts. "Do you think you can believe him? I mean, he certainly doesn't appear any older than you. How would he know your mother/No one/ but Hojo knew your mother."

"Lucrecia," Sephiroth quietly responded. "He says her name is Lucrecia, and he was there the day that she and Dr. Hojo decided to use her son and her as science projects." His hand unknowingly curled into a fist. "A child…." he murmured, shaking his head. "A goddamn child without a choice."

It surprised him sometimes, this anger he still managed to draw up for Hojo. He suspected that why he reacted so violently five years prior, destroying Nibelheim and finding it easy to listen to /her/ voice. Hojo had always told him Jenova was his mother… Jenova was the voice in his head. The connection there was easy to distinguish.

But as for the violence, deliberate burning, and slaying of Nibelheim… He had been stripped of emotion, made into a killing machine, and he had been filled with that righteous anger over his origins, over his life. His mind just couldn't process it, couldn't handle it on a mature level… on any level. So he had reacted with all the emotion of a child, striking out at what he blamed for his pain.

Guilt consumed him on many levels for those deeds, but again, it was a feeling he was having a hard time comprehending on normal levels. Even after all this time and Zack's continued teaching, he still didn't really understand human emotion, not of those his own making and especially not those in others. They couldn't be scientifically explained, analyzed with accuracy, or their true depth found in any book. It was that truth that often had him floundering when it came to dealing with people. Of course, he hadn't exactly had a very good role model as a child, so perhaps it was understandable.

A hand gripped his arm comfortingly, reminding him that he was not alone as crystalline eyes turned sympathetically in his direction. "It never mattered… no one had a choice," Zack responded.

Sephiroth nodded, returning his gaze back to the horizon. "I want you to come with me tomorrow. In fact, Vincent suggested that you do so."

Zack agreed solemnly, but that was only until another thought struck him. He grinned slyly, a motion Sephiroth caught out the corner of his eye.

"Are you sure you don't want another dark-haired man to come?" Zack inquired with a smirk. "That way you can throw yourself into his arms and cry and clutch and--"

"Zack." The former General frowned, shaking his head. "You are impossible."

"Just a suggestion, Seph," the other man replied pleasantly. "Of course, I'll come, but only if you make me." He wiggled his eyebrows again, laughing when the smallest hint of a blush tugged at the older man's cheeks.

"I think you were dead for too long. Your usually high hormone level has reached astronomical heights," Sephiroth retorted, feeling slightly better due to the ex-SOLDIER teasing. No matter what happened, he was certain that if he went out of his mind again, both Zack and Vincent could take him down. Even if Jenova was no longer gone, he couldn't say what actually meeting his mother would do to him.

"Hey!" Zack protested indignantly. "I'm not the same horny teenager I was back then! Take it back."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You are correct… I admit." His smile turned into a smirk. "You're worse."

There was a mock growl seconds before Zack tackled him, shoving them both to the roof of the building just behind them where they proceeded to scuffle about in a most undignified rumble. And after Sephiroth won, as he always did, they realized a most startling fact.

Nothing had changed between them. Nothing at all.

---

I'd appreciate a review or two, just to let me know that someone's reading. I've got a Redux version of Shattered Ice coming out if anyone is interested. Thanks.


	46. Mother

(Internal Voice)

'Internal Thought'

**Chapter 46: Mother**

The piercing whine of the alarm clock woke Cid up from his deep sleep, the shrill noise easily breaking into his muddled mind. He absentmindedly flung out an arm, striking the annoying contraption and causing it to fall to the floor. The beeping continued unabated. Cursing mildly, the blond threw back the covers and groped around for it, seeking the off switch. Beside him, Vincent stirred, grey eyes peering blearily around him. The dark-haired male had returned earlier that night, waking Cid up when he did so. Not that the pilot minded. It had inspired a wonderful little romp in the covers between them that eventually carried into the showers as well, until they stumbled to their bed completely exhausted. (A/N: That scene has been written, but edited out for sake. NC-17 rated version can be found on any of the links on my homepage).

"Dammit," the pilot mumbled, fumbling about still half asleep. "Stupid fuckin'… ah!" The sound ceased, and the air filled with blissful silence.

"What time is it?" Vincent asked, trying to resist the urge to dive back beneath the blankets in his warm cocoon and return to sleep. But he knew he had important business to attend, and he had the feeling that the pilot was not going to like it one bit.

"Too fuckin' early," Cid grumbled in his usual fashion as he yawned and sat up on the bed, idly scratching at his chin. He longed to smoke a cigarette, but he respected Vincent's wish for him to quit. "Gotta get a good start looking for that crazed bastard." He was, of course, referring to the demi-god Balaam.

Vincent rose, grabbing his clothes to dress. "You'll have to go alone today," he said quietly. "I have something I need to do."

The blond shrugged, stretching as he reached for the pair of jeans thrown over a nearby chair. They were clean… enough. "Balaam ain't goin' nowhere. I'll go with you."

The gunman shook his head as he buckled the Hell Fire's holster around his thigh. He still regretted the loss of the Death Penalty, but the replacement gun was strong enough.

"It's something that I have to do alone."

For a moment, the pilot could only stare as he pulled a shirt over his head. "What's so important that I can't be there?" he asked, voice tight with emotion.

Vincent closed his eyes, trying not to sigh. "It has nothing to do with you," he replied, wincing when he realized that had come out entirely wrong.

Sky-blue eyes narrowed. "How can you say that?" Cid growled, turning to face his recently found lover. His hands clenched into fists. "After all that I went through to find you… after all that I suffered… how can you tell me that something about you has nothing to do with me?" he demanded, his voice harsh.

The gunman shook his head, moving to place his hands on Cid's shoulders, and he idly noted that he could finally touch the man with two flesh hands, rather than one of bronze. "That's not what I meant," he explained, trying to calm the upset pilot. "This has to do with my past. Thirty years past, to be exact."

However, those words did nothing to soothe Cid, whose eyes widened in both surprise in anger. He took an unconscious step backwards, hating how jealous and… insecure he sounded. "There's only one thing thirty years ago that you ever cared about. You're going to see /her," he spat. "At least that explains why you don't want me there."

"You misunderstand," Vincent attempted again, but Cid shook his head, cutting him off.

"You don't even deny that's where you're going!" the pilot argued loudly. "You act like its nothing. After all this, you still can't let go of the past!"

Cid turned away, emotions flaring up in him that he didn't even want to consider. He hated how jealous he sounded, how petty. And he despised seeming like a child in his anger. The blond knew that he had to leave before he made an even greater fool of himself. He quickly began snapping up the rest of his clothing, pulling on boots and grabbing his pack and spear.

"I won't deny it as it's the truth!" Vincent returned. "I have to settle this, and Sephiroth does as well!" He hoped that by explaining why, Cid would stop his ridiculous rampage of anger and concede that he had made the right choice. Nevertheless, as with all things concerning Cid Highwind, nothing was ever easy.

The pilot paused, the gears in his head shifting and grinding to a halt. "Sephiroth?" he repeated. "What the hell does that crazy bastard have to do with this?"

"I'm taking him to see her," the gunman replied. "She is, after all, his mother… and you have no place in that."

"And you do?" Even as the question broke from his lips, a memory cropped up in the pilot's mind. He half turned to regard Vincent, who had only responded with one of his many expressive looks. He recalled the first time they had gone to Lucrecia's cave and what had happened to the ex-Turk. He remembered what Vincent had told him then. He knew how Hojo had taunted the other man with his love's death, never really revealing the identity of Sephiroth's true father.

He took a deep breath, uncertain how to deal with this sudden realization. "That's what it's about, isn't it?" he questioned slowly. "You're not going just for Sephiroth. You want to know."

Vincent's gaze softened. "Wouldn't you?" He shook his head again. "But that's not the reason. I could survive never knowing. Truthfully, it's probably better that I don't." He sighed. "Sephiroth deserves to know the truth, especially after all he has suffered. And what better than from the mouth of the woman who caused half the pain? I don't know all the facts. I can't answer his questions. Neither is it my place."

The pilot shouldered his pack, still determined to leave because his mind was in turmoil. He hurt, and he didn't know why. Even after all this time, Lucrecia was still fucking with his lover's mind and causing him pain. Why couldn't the bitch just die and go on like everyone else?

"It's not a difficult place to find," Cid responded lowly. "It's a fucking waterfall in a huge chasm. It's the only one on this continent. He could reach it by chocobo easily. You don't have to go."

Vincent shook his head. "Yes, I do."

Cid just did not understand, and the ex-Turk wasn't certain if he ever could, not when it came to his past and certainly not when it came to Lucrecia. He had to go because he needed to find the truth about himself as well. Still, he didn't want Cid there. Some things, he would rather no one ever knew.

And Vincent also understood that Cid wasn't really angry, so much as hurt and confused. The pilot hated Lucrecia… her and Hojo both for what had been done to him. As such, Cid couldn't understand why Vincent would ever want to see her again.

The pilot growled under his breath, an aggravated noise as he reached into his pack and dug around, finally producing a pack of crumpled cigarettes, the last of his stash. He could really use one, even if he had plans to quit. He couldn't handle both the nicotine cravings and the emotional turmoil. One of them had to go. He lit up the cigarette, casting Vincent a look before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Vincent asked, concerned by the strange expression on the pilot's face and the fact that he had grabbed his traveling pack.

"Out," Cid returned easily as he strode towards the door, viciously yanking it open. "I suddenly feel the need to slice up some monsters. It does no good to fly over the world when I don't know what I'm looking for. When you get done with your 'past' and feel like joining the future again, let me know." With that final declaration, he strode out into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

The ex-Turk winced at the force of the slam as it managed to shake some of the things on the walls and caused one of the portraits of the Highwind to fall and shatter. The glass tinkled as it dropped from the frame. Still, he did not go after the pilot, knowing that he did not have the time nor was he going to deal with Cid's anger. Though he could understand why Cid was upset, he felt that the blond had acted a bit immature. He was jealous, though Vincent could not fathom why.

The gunman stifled a sigh and finished dressing, gathering his own weapons and materia. He had expected Cid to be angry and hurt… but he hadn't been ready for the pilot to storm out in a fit. Perhaps they didn't know each other as well as they had thought… maybe their love wasn't enough to overcome the past.

"It pains me to see that even with your memory the eternal brooding does not cease," a voice commented dryly from behind the gunman. As was his usual way, Erebus had just popped into existence to offer up unnecessary and irritating comments. "Why can you not just accept what you already have and move on?"

Vincent exhaled loudly in annoyance, not bother to turn and fix the demi-god with one of his ruthless cold stares. "Don't pretend as if you understand," he commented. "My life has always been… complicated," he finished rather lamely. He risked a glance at the clock. It was 11:30, and he had to hurry else he would be late.

"I never said I understood," Erebus returned with a hint of rebuke. "Goodness knows you make that near impossible, especially when you complicate things yourself."

"You think I should have let Cid come then?" Vincent demanded, looking over his shoulder to eye the ancient demi-god.

Erebus shook his head. "You are putting words into my mouth. All I am saying is, do not just assume it's not going to work out due to one little misunderstanding." He pointed out, "That is your incessant need to make a situation more difficult than it needs to be. Need I remind you, Lucrecia was the one who did not return your feelings. Yet, you pursued her anyways."

The ex-Turk glared, shoving one last box of ammunition into his overused and rather disgraceful looking travel pack, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "You presume too much," he replied harshly, although a part of him agreed with the demi-gods words.

Erebus sighed, waving a dismissive hand at the ex-Turk. "You know, sometimes I wonder why I even bother trying to help you mortals," he said with a shake of his head. "I'll try talking to you when you are less… irrational," he concluded before disappearing.

Vincent snorted. "As if you could ever keep your nose out of my business in the first place," he retorted sharply as he headed towards the door.

(Sometimes, I regret these choices.) Erebus sighed within his mind. (Nevertheless, I am attached to you, and I must admit, despite your irritating mortal tendencies, I have grown rather fond of you.)

Vincent didn't bother to respond as he switched the lights off and exited the room, closing the door shut behind him. He would have to hurry if he was going to meet Sephiroth, and presumably Zack, at the chocobo stables in time.

---

The three men stood in front of the darkened maw of the cave, their chocobos warbling softly from just beyond the curtain of water behind them. Sephiroth had informed them that Masa would keep the two borrowed chocobos in line, and Vincent had believed him. Sephiroth's female was certainly a magnificent example of breeding. Nevertheless, no one made a move to enter the cave, perhaps stymied by what they would find within. Even the General seemed reluctant.

Finally, encouraged by Erebus' sly chuckle within his mind, Vincent strode forward, leading the other two inside. It always surprised him how quickly the darkness seemed to swallow him, and without the demons in his body, he could no longer see through it. At least, not with the same clarity as before. The mako helped some, so he knew that Sephiroth and Zack were all right. Still, it was not the same.

It wasn't long until the sound of three pairs of boots was the only nuance they could hear. The darkness was encompassing, clinging to them like a cloak and turning their senses against them. Vincent was never happier to see the faint greenish-purple glow of the materia laden cave than when they finally reached the end of the tunnel. In turn, it opened into the huge cavern where Lucrecia had hid herself. The gunman was the first to enter, hearing Sephiroth and Zack pause just inside the doorway to view everything before coming completely within. He was sure it was a result of their SOLDIER training.

Nothing had changed, Vincent noted, nor was Lucrecia in sight. Nonetheless, he was certain that she, or her apparition as he was never quite sure which she was, would show up and make herself known once she had determined their identities. He vaguely wondered how she would react to him as he walked towards the platform where she usually stood. The last time they had parted had not been on good terms; she had cried as he walked out on her. She had begged him to say, proclaiming her love. And he had told her to go to hell, but in nicer words.

"Why have you brought me to an empty cave, Valentine?" Sephiroth inquired evenly, his voice echoing around the cavern.

Vincent turned, looking at both ex-SOLDIERs over his shoulder. "It is not empty," he responded coolly. "She is merely biding her time until she makes her appearance."

No sooner had the words left his lips then an eerie shiver slid up his spine. "You said he was dead," came a voice he recognized well, only this time it was laced with ice and anger.

The ex-Turk shifted his gaze and found Lucrecia standing near the far right wall, in full view of all those present. She still wore the same outfit as when he saw her last, the long white lab coat over the jade-green dress. Seeing her again, he was reminded of just how much Sephiroth looked liked her.

She glared at him, her eyes flickering over to her son before returning to glare at Vincent. She began to walk towards him, her steps purposeful. "You told me my boy was dead, Vincent," she accused bitterly. "You lied to me."

Grey eyes narrowed as he angled his body towards her, one hand sliding to rest on his gun as if in warning. "How does it feel?" he questioned scathingly. "How does it feel to have something so important kept from you? Does it make you angry?" he added, lowering his tone. "Does it hurt you?"

There was no love between them anymore, no sense of guilt in his heart. This woman that had betrayed him; this female that had, in all sense of the word, left him to his death and torture at the hands of a madman. He was amazed at how much that still hurt him, tore at his insides so fresh and raw. Though he had originally lied to spare her the pain, he was not ashamed to admit that he was glad he had not told her the truth since it hurt her. It was wrong of him and cruel, but he was altogether human. And that little piece of revenge was worth the guilt he would feel later.

"You mock me," she hissed, still hurt by the way he had left her more than six months prior. This man that had claimed to love her, but he had left her alone in her torment. He abandoned her to agonize over her wrong choices, though she had once believed them to be right.

Vincent shook his head, almost forgetting the initial reason why he had come. "Don't presume this innocence with me," he shot back. "For what I've been through you deserve far worse!" he all but spat. "Still, that is not why I have come. Yes, I lied, but now I bring you your son. He wants answers, dear Lucrecia," the gunman continued in a more neutral tone, though it echoed with sarcasm. "He desires answers I am not going to give him because I refuse to make excuses." He stalked towards her, looking down into the brown eyes that he had once loved so dearly. Yet, she was defiant in her returned gaze, though the pain was present in her trembling form.

"You are going to tell him the truth, and no lies, little Lucia. He deserves more than that for what Hojo put him through, for what you were too selfish to save him from." He narrowed his grey eyes, his tone cold and harsh, and he made sure to convey his true emotions of disgust and hatred. "There are ways of making even those with Jenova cells perish, Lucrecia. And if you lie to him, I /will/ introduce them to you."

She trembled as her eyes widened. She darted forward, clutching onto the front of his cloak. If not for his incredible self-control, he would have recoiled. Still, Vincent managed to stare at her impassively as her eyes swam with tears.

"Then kill me now," she begged him, voice breaking. "I have longed for death… not even able to take my own life. Please, Vincent, just end this!"

He shook his head, grabbing her arms and removing her nearly death-like grip from his clothing. He held her forearms tightly, locking grey eyes with brown, and she finally noticed the change in his appearance, her eyes widening in surprise.

"If death is what you seek then I will not grant it, should you lie to him," he warned, though he kept his voice low so that the two watching could not hear. "I will seal you up in this cave alone. And who can say how long the Jenova cells will sustain you."

With that, Vincent released her and turned his back on her for the second time. Despite himself, his voice became softer when he heard the choked sob that she struggled to contain, and he stared at the ground.

"I loved you once, Lucia. I died trying to protect you." His eyes rose until they were locked on the former General, who was watching the proceedings with a carefully guarded expression. "I died to protect you and the child who could have been mine, though you never would tell me." He paused as if considering his words. "For once in your life, do the right thing and have the courtesy to mend something you helped to destroy." He stepped away from her, heading for the exit to the cave, determined to leave Sephiroth alone to his conversation with Lucrecia.

He got as far as the lip of the tunnel before she tried some last parting words. "But you didn't save him either!" Lucrecia shrieked back, her voice almost pleading. "You failed and suffered… even as a Turk!"

Vincent closed his eyes at the reminder, but he had long come to grips with that. "Maybe so," he responded quietly, though he knew his voice would carry to her. "But at least I tried, which is more than you can say."

He left on that note, his swift steps carrying him back down the darkened tunnel. He had no desires to hear Sephiroth's conversation with his mother. That was a private matter. Nor did he care that the former General had heard what was between he and the scientist either. Sephiroth needed to see that, if only to understand why Vincent had come to him in the first place.

As he walked towards the waterfall, determined to stop just inside the edge of the tunnel, he could feel his heart beating madly in his chest. Only then did he realize the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins and the way that his hands madly shook. He had been so calm when talking to Lucrecia, but mostly, he had felt numb. Now, the emotional reaction to seeing her was beginning to hit. No matter what he did, she could still affect him. That was perhaps the most unnerving part of all.

His breath became tight in his throat, and he stumbled for a moment in his steps, glad that he had reached the end of the tunnel before the emotions overtook him. He slumped against the wall, leaning against the sharp, fractured rock that dripped with water. Vincent struggled to control his breathing and the shuddering of his body. Lucrecia reminded him of everything he still hated about himself and all that had been done to him.

As he clutched to the side of the tunnel, glad for its solidness as he struggled to gain control of himself, he couldn't help but wonder if this was why he hadn't wanted Cid to come along. He knew how emotional he would get and how much seeing the woman would upset him. Unlike the last time when he had come demanding answers, this time Vincent had come to lay everything to rest, to end that chapter of his life once and for all. The part of him that yearned for Lucrecia was dying now, giving in to his hopes for a new life but still fighting to live, and as a result, his carefully crafted and guarded mind was struggling to maintain some sort of balance.

Vincent closed his eyes and sucked in deep steadying breaths. Lucrecia had been right. He had failed. Yet, he believed that by being the one to end Sephiroth's life back in the North Crater six months prior, he had somehow helped the man. After all, the former General was now back to life… back to himself, and he was no longer ruled by Jenova. If he had not been forced back into the Lifestream, Sephiroth may have never found his peace. Saving the child that could have been his was the only reason he consented to the exchanging of sacrifices.

(You foolish child.) The words slithered across his unconscious, causing his entire body to shudder. It wasn't Erebus speaking to him, or even the taunting voice of Balaam. This was something entirely different, someone he thought that he might just recognize. (You still believe that it is all the fault of one insane human. Can you not realize that this goes beyond a mortal's grip?)

Vincent growled aloud, eyes snapping open. "What the hell are you talking about?" he questioned this invasive voice even as he worried that he might be losing his mind once again.

(I am speaking of your so-called sacrifice in the North Crater!) the obviously male voice snapped, (and your blame of Hojo for all the evil that has scourged the land.)

The ex-Turk struggled to understand the words of the unknown voice, his mind still reeling from the confrontation with Lucrecia. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And why are you speaking to me?"

Then, a familiar person chuckled from behind him. "Relax, Vincent. He is just glad that he has finally broken through… though his methods are rather gruff."

Vincent whirled around to find Erebus standing there, hidden deeply beneath the dark folds of his cloak with his arms folded over his chest. The skeletal deity shook his head.

"You are in a rather unique position," the newcomer added.

(My friend is right,) the unnamed voice continued. (The conclave determined that because of your precarious position as host, you were to be granted a guardian as well as an anima, though our bond is much the same as the animum bond.)

"I…" Vincent shook his head. "Host? Conclave? What did you mean by 'so-called sacrifice'? And why am I hearing you now instead of earlier?"

(You always ask so many questions,) the unnamed one commented dryly.

Erebus chuckled again. "And yet, he hardly stills long enough to accept the answers, my friend. Either that… or he makes up his own, convinced they are the truth."

Vincent glared at his animus. "Now is not the time to criticize me, Erebus. I'm teetering on the edge as it is."

"Why do you allow her to effect you when she is meaningless?" the demi-god questioned with a sigh. "It is not even her that you should blame."

(True. It is Balaam who is the reason for it all… even stemming as far back as Jenova. He has been orchestrating everything from behind the scenes… pulling the strings, so to speak, and trying to gain his freedom. As for me… well, I cannot tell you my name, but I will give you a hint. The final battle… I tried to stop you from destroying your friends.)

Vincent shook his head. "I can't remember that battle," he insisted. "When Chaos broke free it was all dark. The only time I managed clarity was right as I dealt the killing blow to Sephiroth, and that was only because I used every ounce of my will to speak what I knew needed to be said!"

The voice sighed. (That is quite all right. Do not get all worked up about it. The name will come with time.) He exhaled loudly, a rushing sound that irritated the fringes of Vincent's subconscious. (Still, it is rather annoying, especially considering the layers of broodiness, self-hatred, and pity that I had to wade through to simply come to the surface. Kami knows how Erebus was able to do it so quickly.)

If it was possible for a skeleton to look smug, Vincent was sure that Erebus would have carried that expression. "I belong in his mind," the demi-god pointed out. "You are merely a temporary visitor."

Vincent blinked, quite aggravated, and put a hand to his forehead, trying to quell a rising headache. It was too much: Cid, then Lucrecia, and now these two anima bickering, one within his head and the other outside. He wouldn't be surprised if his body just gave up soon and sent him into all out shock.

"Would you two please start making some sense?" he snapped. "Why the hell were you calling my sacrifice a waste?"

(Balaam wanted out of your body,) the still unnamed one explained, his voice slightly apologetic. (No matter the cost, and thanks to Hojo's rambling, he knew the properties of the Lifestream. All that was left was to somehow make you dive into it. A sacrifice was not necessary… neither was Aeris' death meant to be one. She had actually intended to live when she went to the Ancients' city. Gaia does not require blood for the activation of Holy. Balaam subconsciously planted the idea within you that a sacrifice was needed and that you were the new candidate.)

"Then, why was she returned?" Vincent questioned, hopelessly confused.

"Gaia hoped that if Aeris was given a second chance at life, then you would find the strength to ignore Balaam. Not to mention she was needed to return Cloud to a more sane state of mind. Instead, Balaam turned that hope to his favor, twisting the truth inside your mind," Erebus explained. "Remember, Chaos is his element. Creating the disorder within your mind was an easy task."

Vincent was about to open his mouth, another question on the tip of his tongue, when the sound of booted feet on stone distracted him. Erebus disappeared in a whirl of black and grey. The ex-Turk turned to find Sephiroth and Zack emerging from the darkness, both men looking subdued. The gunman was especially surprised by the show of emotion on the former General's face. He was both hurt and angry, surprised and yet resigned. All fluttered across his face and his eyes in a confusing maelstrom. Vincent was sure those same emotions had probably reflected on his face when he first strode away from Lucrecia's presence.

He looked up and locked eyes with the younger man as he moved from the cave, an unspoken something passing between them. He passed them, intent on heading back in for one last confrontation, completing the promise he had made, but Sephiroth spoke, causing him to pause in his tracks.

"There is no need to fulfill your promise," he explained, his voice rather hoarse, as if he had spent the last few minutes screaming, crying, or both. "With the main body of Jenova gone, if she truly wishes to die, all Lucrecia needs to do is dive into the nearest upwelling of Lifestream. The choice is hers."

Vincent turned to regard Sephiroth over his shoulder, noting that the younger male did not call her mother. Mossy eyes met his evenly, and he simply nodded in understanding, shifting so that he was turned to face the cave exit and the crashing waterfall beyond. He noticed that Zack was just standing at the very edge, looking out at the pouring blue, his shoulders tight.

"I still have questions," Sephiroth inserted easily. "There were some things she said you are meant to answer, and others I know only you have the answers for."

Vincent inclined his head in understanding, already heading for the exit, determined to leave the place he despised as much as the ShinRa Mansion. He vowed never to return, that this was the last he would ever see of Lucrecia.

"I will explain all in Midgar. Not here… not with her presence so near."

The former General nodded, and the three men quickly exited the cave, determined to put distance between themselves and the source of so much strife. Once outside, they found the sun to still be shining brightly, and their three black chocobos still waited patiently. It was almost as if a different world existed beyond the falling water.

"Women," Zack muttered, shaking his head as he looked at the haggard expressions on his travel companions' faces, which were now absolutely clear in the daylight. They gave him a look as they climbed onto the back of their chocobos, Masa warbling softly.

"No wonder you guys are gay," he put in, not intending for it to be a joke, but it sounding much like one nevertheless. He clucked lightly to his chocobo as he steered it towards the city of Midgar.

Both Sephiroth and Vincent exchanged glances before sighing and choosing to glare at the spiky-headed male. Zack gave them both a raised eyebrow in return as they started on the path. However, he knew enough to say nothing further, and the three former ShinRa made their way back to Midgar in a contemplative silence.

---

I'm seeing very little hits and absolutely zero reviews. I can only assume that no one is still reading this story. Therefore, updates will be sporadic at best. It is more time consuming to post here than it is in other locations so I'm not going to bother if no one is reading. Thanks.


	47. My Faithful Friend

Special thanks to my reviewer! This chapter is for you!

(Internal Voice)

'Internal Response'

**Chapter 47: My Faithful Friend**

Archer was in a very awkward position… or perhaps awkward was too lenient of a word to use. Plainly put, he was between a rock and a very hard place. At the moment he was sitting in his home on his wonderful and expensive, leather couch with a beer in one hand and the TV across the way displaying the sports channel. Seemingly good position.

Except that ranting and raving as he paced back and forth across the floor in front of said television was his former lover, Cid Highwind.

On any given day, this would not be a bad occurrence, perhaps even fortunate given his recent understanding that he still cared for his ex-lover, and since he was said ex-lover's friend, it became his task to help him in his time of need. Though Archer figured that Cid would go to Reeve first, and indeed he had, but the executive had been busy. It appeared not all was well between that married couple either. Trouble in paradise, so to speak.

Cid had sought Archer out because of that, needing somewhere to vent. However, the former ShinRa executive wasn't certain of all the details, even after several conversations. This was mostly due to the fact that the pilot tended to curse when he was angry… curse so much that he forgot all normal language and nothing made sense. So far, Archer had learned that Vincent was gone on his own with Sephiroth and Zack –"'those damn zombies" – and that Cid had not been allowed to come.

Of course, the fact that the gunman was going to go meet his ex-girlfriend, of all people, didn't improve Cid's mood in the slightest. Or so Kyle thought he understood, anyways.

Archer took another long drink of his beer and eyed the still fuming Cid Highwind. He had been ranting for two hours and was finally beginning to slow down. At a brief pause, when the pilot took a breath, Kyle chose to insert his two gil worth.

"Cid, you really ought to calm down." It was the same mantra he had been repeating over and over, but as with all things concerning the Captain, his words went unheard unless they wanted to be.

In that instance, he and Vincent were much alike. Or so Archer had come to believe. He ended up hearing much of the story of the gunman's past from Reeve. It was long, horrifying, and enough to make Kyle shiver where he stood. Still, to blame himself for things that he couldn't prevent, Archer felt that Vincent was needlessly punishing himself.

And even though the pilot appeared extremely pissed, Archer knew that deep down he was actually worried, very worried. He feared losing Vincent again after just finding him. Kyle was one of the few people who understood Cid's deep fear of losing people. It seemed everyone in his life had always left: his mother, his brother, Archer himself, and then Vincent when he had died… or as everyone else had believed, it was only Cid who thought he still lived.

Everyday Archer cursed himself for being another one on the list to hurt this seemingly strong man. Cid, for all his blustery anger, was a softie at heart and much of his ego and swagger was all a front. That could be blamed on the Captain's father. They were still estranged as far as Archer knew. Cid never did relate the whole story just that after his mother died and his dad remarried, he had had to leave the house.

Shera must have seen that in Cid as well for her to put up with his constant cursing and yelling at her. She seemed to take it in stride, cheerfully whistling anytime he appeared to get angry with her. She was his one attempt at dating a female, for a while actually fixing his relationship with his father. Until Shera told him to stop pretending, and they were estranged once more. Perhaps that was why she dealt with his harshness. Like everyone else around Cid Highwind, she wanted to protect him though, he appeared to be able to do it himself. She was a remarkably perceptive girl that Shera.

And then, there was Archer himself and how he had only added to the Captain's need to push everyone away without seeming to do so. In that, Cid and Vincent were much alike in that. However, whereas Vincent was cold and unfeeling, Cid was brash and loud, hoping that would keep everyone a safe distance.

Archer never really had a good reason for ending it with Cid, not unless one counted his jealousy. That his boyfriend, someone younger and less experienced, should get a promotion, a chance to fly into space… while he, the elder with the more knowledge, was still struggling to find a place in ShinRa had always hit him hard. It was a rotten thing to do, and he knew it, but he was human and male at that. The need for competition didn't change just because he was gay… bi… whatever.

So he refused to go to Rocket Town with Cid… or even have a long distance relationship with him. He had given him some bull shit excuse, one he couldn't even remember. He hoped that Cid would turn down the offer and stay with him, but he should have known better. To fly and see the stars was his biggest dream, and Archer never should have made him choose.

He kicked himself every day for that, for his supposed wisdom as the elder.

"I don't even know why I bothered coming to you if you're not going to listen to me." Cid's voice broke through his thoughts like a gun shot.

He blinked to clear away the reminiscing of times past and returned his attention to his ranting former lover, who know stood glaring at him, puffing furiously on a cigarette… another thing he had been continuously doing since he showed up on Kyle's doorstep.

"I was remembering," Archer explained with a wave of his hand. "But please continue. Last I recall was something along the lines of 'that damn bitch and her damn &$# science' mixed with some other more creative expletives."

Sky-blue eyes blinked at him before he took another drag of his cigarette, slumped his shoulders in defeat and sat down at the couch, sinking wearily into the leather cushions. "You're right," he grumbled without sounding too angry. "I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"You never did," Archer returned. "Not when you were angry, anyways. Though, I am not sure this is all anger." He eyed Cid. "You really think he's going to leave you?"

The pilot sighed and leaned back in the couch, closing his eyes as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth. "I don't know," he replied, idly flicking some ashes into the air. Archer held his tongue from pointing out the closeness of an ashtray, not wanting to aggravate Cid further, but he promised himself to bring it up at a later time. Instead, he tried to help Cid sort the mess he had gotten himself into.

"Did you even ask him why you were not allowed?" Archer was sure that the man had explained that somewhere, but between the curses and his own internal musings, he must have missed it.

Again, the pilot exhaled and rubbed anxiously at his ragged blond locks. "He said, 'this has nothing to do with you' and 'you don't have a place in my past.'" The cigarette returned to the mouth, more smoke filling the air.

"Hmm," was Archer's only response as he tossed Vincent's words around in his head. He gleaned all the information he knew about the ex-Turk from his cranial cavity as he tried to figure out why Vincent that and then explain it to Cid so that the pilot would understand. Despite his own feelings, he knew that the gunman cared for Cid, and that with whatever he had gone to do, he planned to return to him.

Of course, this was why Archer was between a rock and a hard place. Every time he looked at the pilot, he was reminded of what he gave up, and it made him hurt and want to reclaim it… especially after seeing the pain Cid had recently gone through.

(My dragonet, I do not think such thoughts are a good thing,) Tiamat whispered to him. She had been listening to their entire conversation, despite his urging that she not. Damn curious demi-goddess.

(I heard that.)

Archer mentally snorted. 'You were supposed to,' he responded internally.

She clucked her tongue at him. (Do not change the subject, dearest heart. He came to you for help… not so you could rekindle old flames, so to speak.)

'I'm not!' he protested. 'Just because I am thinking it, does not mean I'll do it. In the long run, it would hurt him more.'

It was creepy how she could be in his mind and he could still feel her disbelieving stare. (I think you are misinterpreting your own feelings,) she explained quietly. (Sympathy is one thing, but this is an entirely different matter.)

Archer mentally glared and snubbed his nose at his anima. 'You act like I'm going to pin him down and rape him or something.'

She shook her head, the action clear even though it was within his own head. (Do not be so dramatic, my hatchling. I never said anything of the sort.)

"Hmm? That's the best you can say? Hmm?" muttered Cid, shaking his head and bringing Archer out of his internal conversation. "Here, I come to you for help in my hour of need because ShinRa boy and his 'wife' are having difficulties, and you ignore me! I'd have been better off drowning my sorrows in alcohol with Barret!"

Archer snorted, giving Cid a baleful look. "Really, Cid, is it that serious?" he questioned with a hint of teasing. He changed his tone, however, at the mention of Reeve and Reno. "What's going on with Reeve?"

The pilot shrugged, leaning forward to grab his beer and taking a deep swig of it, not that alcohol was what he needed at the moment. "I'm not quite sure. I don't even think Reno knows. He just says that 'Reeve is acting odd, yo. Don't know what to make of it, ya know?'" Cid mimicked the red-haired Turk's speech so perfectly that Archer had to contain a small burst of laughter, knowing it was not the moment for it.

Instead, he settled for a non-definitive "hmm."

"Again with the 'hmm'. Would you let me know when you have anything damn useful to say?"

Archer spread his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not sure what you want from me, Cid. I don't have all the answers. If I did… well, things would be quite different, and we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

(Archer.) Her tone was a warning as she dragged out the syllables of his name. But he ignored her.

Cid blinked then looked at Archer out of the corner of his eyes, taking another swig of his beer before replying, "Yeah, you're right." He paused and an awkward tension filled the room, one that the former executive cursed himself thoroughly for.

Why was it he was always screwing things up with Cid?

Tiamat clucked her tongue at him again, chastising more thoroughly than he could do so himself. (You mortals never learn, do you? I suppose I shall let you dig yourself out of this one.)

'Thanks ever so much for your help,' replied the engineer dryly.

After a moment of intense silence, Archer kicked himself mentally. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

But Cid shook his head, already rising to his feet. "No, I'm the one that's fuckin' sorry. I never should have made you listen to me. Not concerning this." He gulped down the last of his beer. "I'll just be leaving now."

"No, wait," interrupted Archer, shaking his head and inwardly thoroughly cursing. "We are friends. That's more important to me." Cid glanced back at him, over his shoulder with a strange look in his eye that the former executive wasn't sure if he could identify. "I'm sorry… I'm just… just-"

"Just what?" Now, he was curious, raising a brow as he shifted his weight.

The engineer felt himself flush from the tips of his goatee to his hairline. Unhappy with that turn in his demeanor, he settled for skirting around the truth. Now was not the time to be revealing the topsy-turvy feeling that had settled in his heart.

"Just being an idiot," Archer snapped. "Sit down."

Cid grinned as he plopped back down. "I think that's the first time I ever heard you admit you were an idiot," he teased.

Kyle sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Is that the way you treat someone who's only trying to help?"

"Help? The only thing you've done is say 'hmm.'"

"And you are being remarkably flexible in your emotions," commented the amethyst-eyed man. "One moment you're angry, then you're curious, and now, you are teasing me. One might think you were pregnant, Cid."

That of course, caused the pilot to begin spluttering his denial, mixed in with a few choice curse words as was typical Cid behavior. But at least he was no longer furious and that shadow of worry was gone from his eyes. He was still concerned, deep under the surface, his heart worrying for what Vincent was going to do and if he was going to return. But at least now, he was more like himself.

As they continued to talk, leading into other topics, none of which concerned the absent ex-Turk and former ShinRa soldiers. It was almost like old times before everything was ruined by Archer's jealousy and Cid's promotion. The engineer felt he had his friend back once again, and it was a good feeling, one that soothed his loneliness.

Perhaps Tiamat was right, though he was loathe to admit it to her. She would preen herself if he ever said such a thing, but he had to acknowledge the truth in her words. He was envious of the love that was shared between Reeve and Reno, despite their arguing. And even that he could see between Vincent and Cid… the kind of love that transversed death.

Who was he to stand in between that?

Like Vincent had gone to settle his past, that was where Archer belonged, romantically anyways. He was of Cid's past, the only room he had in the future of the pilot was as a friend. He could see that now.

(Finally, you have learned some sense, my dragonet. Yet, do not fret, my dearest hatchling. I am certain that there is someone for you as well. It is the way of mortals; this 'soul mate' that they always speak of.)

He smiled inwardly. 'Like your Seiryu is to you, dear Tiamat?'

(Yes, like my Seiryu.) She paused before laughing lightly. (Does this mean there will be no more pathetic attempts at broodiness?)

'I will throw one in every now and then, just to keep you entertained,' he said with a grin before returning his concentration to the conversation with Cid, lest he be yelled at for not paying him attention once more.

---

It was tranquil, almost eerily so. There was the quiet whirr of the specimen cooler, the gentle hum of the continuously running machines, and both were soft noises of a well run laboratory. Bright, florescent lights illuminated every inch of metal counter and glinted off the clean glass beakers, vials, and syringes. It was a nearly pristine room: white walls, white tiles, the uniformity of it all broken only by the lab's two occupants.

Sitting on a stool, hunched over a microscope with a pair of thin glasses perched on the tip of her nose, Elena seemed every bit the science nerd as she peered at the object under the lens. The small and thin rectangular piece of metal had captured her curiosity from the moment she first found it on the dead Torama-clone. Beside her, perched on a stool of his own with a pen firmly clenched between his teeth, nibbling absentmindedly, was Tseng. He was flipping through a reference notebook, attempting to help identify the mysterious object.

It was a quiet, almost peaceful moment.

Elena sighed heavily as she sat back from the microscope, removing her glasses with one hand to rub tiredly at her eyes with the other. "It's like nothing I've seen before," she stated irritably. "If I didn't know for sure he was dead, I'd say it has the stamp of Hojo all over it."

Tseng closed the book with a snap, idly drumming his fingers on the vinyl cover as he removed the well-chewed pen with the other hand. "As near as I can tell, it is a bio chip… but not one of the ones we have listed or patented. This is something new altogether."

"But why place something that obviously sophisticated on an animal?" questioned Elena as she slid off the stool, turning to face a small, metal shelf behind her. Lines of reference material were before her, and her eyes roamed over the titles, wondering which they should try next.

Her commander and she had been working tirelessly all day to identify the chip and its purpose. They had the time now since their charges, Sephiroth and Zack, had gone somewhere with Vincent. They hadn't really explained why, and Tseng had only known because an angry Cid had come looking for Archer since Reeve was busy. The pilot hadn't been much help in clarifying matters, only cursing about the "damn fucking past" and "that traitorous bitch." Honestly, a fuming Cid made very little sense.

It was two days after setting out to find Balaam and not much had actually gotten done. No one acted with urgency, as if the demi-god was just going to show himself. Or perhaps that was just Tseng's restlessness speaking. He had been spending far too much time idle, and the lack of action irritated him.

"My question is not why…. but who?" Tseng added, sliding over to look at the chip beneath the lens. He zoomed in on one of the tiny culprits, one that seemed distinctly out of place. The use for the shiny, metallic-blue circuit was not one that he could identify. It curled around the edge of the chip, slipping between the two wafers.

Elena pursed her lips in thought, fingers skimming over the binders in front of her. "Someone working for Balaam perhaps. And on a Torama-clone, a mutated monster… someone of Hojo's league? An assistant we didn't know of, maybe?"

"Hmm," Tseng replied in thought, reaching for a miniature knife to slice delicately at the chip. effectively separating the two sections. Just as he had surmised… it had a thought converter. Yet, last he heard Hojo hadn't perfected that technology, and his wife had taken… over…

Tseng groaned, mentally slapping himself in the forehead. "I can't believe I forgot about her," he uttered, annoyed with himself. "Of course, it has the mark of Hojo… because a Hojo designed it."

The blonde frowned, glancing at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

The Wutaiian leaned back and twisted around on his stool so that he could speak directly to her. "Alice Hojo," he explained, "not a very attractive woman but as mad and sadistic as her late husband, perhaps even more so. She went relatively unnoticed in ShinRa R&D until Dr. Hojo learned of her endeavors in bio science. Needless to say, it was love at first sight."

Elena couldn't help but shudder at the thought of anyone wanting to wed Hojo. To do such things to his own son, to humans in general, the man was a monster in every sense of the word. And his newest wife was just as sadistic… the thought spelled trouble for them all. Could there be another Sephiroth-like threat out there?

"But how did she get mixed up with Balaam?" Elena questioned, her brow furrowed. "If indeed they are working together."

"I am certain of it. There is too much coincidence for it to be anything less, nor would it surprise if Balaam in his non-corporeal state sought her out, knowing fully her capabilities and expertise." Tseng sighed, massaging his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "But why would they need control chips for animals already under their direction?"

"Maybe they were just test subjects?" Elena suggested. "Though, I can't imagine what Balaam has that needs controlling… unless he plans to kidnap some of us or something."

Tseng shook his head. "I do not think that is the case. It is not Balaam's style. Still, I cannot help but wonder what foul plan he has concocted."

Elena gave up on the texts then and turned back around, her stomach growling loudly, announcing her hunger. She hadn't eaten anything since they had begun the long, tedious identification process, and her belly sought to remind her of this and rather vocally. She sniffed and rubbed her stomach, looking hopefully at Tseng.

The Wutaiian smiled faintly and slid off the stool with his own unique grace that often made the somewhat clumsy blonde jealous. "I suppose we are deserving of a break," he commented mildly. "To the lunchroom then."

Elena made a face of disgust. "Why don't we just order in? The cooking has yet to improve in the cafeteria, despite the change in management."

Tseng waved a hand of dismissal, already heading for the door. "Most places have been destroyed, and those not are so busy we would have a long wait. I am too hungry for that."

"So you are human after all," teased Elena. "For a while you had us all thinking you were a machine." She laughed as she followed her commander, clicking the lights off and shutting the door to the laboratory. It locked behind her with a faint snap.

Tseng chuckled mildly. "That was a rumor started by Reno when I first assumed command. He was convinced only a robot could work as much as I."

Elena's expression sobered. "He did have a point. You work far more than a normal person. When was the last time you had fun?"

"Fun?" The Turk commander blinked. "I'm not sure that word has ever been a part of my vocabulary."

"That's exactly what I mean. You're still young, Tseng, and despite the world gone to shit, you need to learn how to live." She smiled secretively, a move that he caught out the corner of his eye.

He answered her quickly, cutting off the suggestion before she could even voice it. There was much that Elena didn't understand despite their relative closeness. And her continued urging could not – would not – make it occur any quicker.

"I know what you are thinking," he interrupted smoothly, "but it is best if you disregard such thoughts. Besides, I have never seen or heard you claim to be attached."

Elena grinned at a passerby even as she waved dismissively. "I like to keep my options open. I've not yet met someone who can stay at my pace." She turned into the elevator, quickly hitting the button for the second floor as Tseng edged in beside her. Elena tried her best to ignore the annoying elevator music as the doors slid shut, trapping them inside.

This time it was an annoying, chipper island beat. The soundtrack was a mix of flutes, percussion, and xylophone with upbeat background vocals in the home language of Mideel. Therefore, she couldn't understand a word of it. The music was far too happy for her, inevitably grating her nerves.

Reno would love it.

Tseng, however, hated it. "Remind me to speak with Reeve about that nonsense," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation with one hand as he gestured towards the speakers with the other. They descended four floors rather quickly, the elevator ceasing its movement with a low dong and releasing its passengers into the hall where the smell of broiled gysahl greens attacked their senses.

Elena wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Are you sure you don't want to order in?" she questioned as they neared the lunchroom.

Tseng's nose twitched. "It will be good for you, Elena. Besides, I am certain I detect the flavor of fresh apple pie beneath the greens."

The blonde's demeanor brightened considerably. Apple pie just happened to be her favorite dessert. And though the cooks screwed up everything else, they always managed to perfect their pie. It was an intriguing mystery.

"Alright then," she grumbled playfully. "You have convinced me." With that, they swiped their identification/employee cards at the front register and entered Neo-ShinRa's lunchroom. It was just before the snack time rush, so the cafeteria was almost deserted.

"What do you make of them leaving?" Elena questioned as they moved around the hot bars, selecting their food. The blonde had already procured three slices of pie and wasn't sure if she was going to choose anything else.

For a moment, Tseng was silent as he pondered her topic change. He had to fight away a creeping blush when he realized that she was again leading him towards finding a lover and a certain one in black leather at that. He had the feeling his subordinate was a romantic at heart, even if she did pretend to be all tough.

"What do you suppose the big secret is?" she continued, curiosity imbued in her tone and features.

Tseng elegantly shrugged as they made their way to a table well out of earshot of the few other patrons. Elena could be a rather loud blabbermouth at times.

"After Vincent's visit yesterday, I attempted to get into his files," the Turk commander responded as he picked up a fork. "But they were password protected by one Euphraim Hojo. I have got Sion (1) trying to decode it right now. Sephiroth's file had the same mark."

Elena frowned, fork poised over her apple pie… the only thing she had decided to get other than a glass of iced tea. "What secret did Hojo want to hide so desperately? And what does he have to do with Valentine?"

"I do not know," Tseng admitted. "However, I have the feeling that like everything of Hojo's, the dark will be thrust into the light with all it's gruesome and macabre truth." His words had a somber tone.

"And what of Sephiroth? Do you think we can trust him?"

Tseng sighed. "My intuition says yes… but my practicality says no. The change in hair color helps, but still…" He paused, mind reliving his near death experience as he had every time he thought of the former General.

"When you see him, you remember then, not the man he is now," Elena finished for him, quite perceptively. She munched on her pie thoughtfully. "The wonder idiots probably know you better than I do, boss, but I can't help but think it's just an excuse." Brown eyes locked with his own. "The same way you hide from your anima and the same reason you try to detach yourself from everyone."

The Wutaiian sighed but did not respond. He did not like the turn the conversation was taking. He hated it when Elena decided to be intuitive and push her psychological nonsense on him. She tended to think she knew him better than he understood himself. Never mind that half the time she was right… it still irked him.

"You're afraid, boss. Which is understandable… but it's no way to live your life," she finished, calmly returning to her half-devoured pie.

Tseng pulled his lips between his teeth and bit down nearly drawing blood. "I am not afraid," he countered defiantly. Yet, he couldn't find another reason to give her. And so he fell silent once more.

Brown eyes gazed at him steadily. "I'm only telling you this because I care, Tseng. Perhaps I have gotten over that infatuation with you, and much of it stems from that, but I do want to see you in some semblance of happiness. And though I hate the man for what he claims his 'body' and not his 'mind' did, if he's what you need than I won't fault you for it." She lowered her voice, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "It's not a weakness to want something, Tseng. It only makes you human."

Silver eyes narrowed, her words striking out at him like bullets to a shield. Picking, prodding, poking to draw him out, encouraging him to accept things he could not… or was it would not?

Gah.

Now, he was even second-guessing his own decisions. And in his moment of weakness, that damned voice sought to break through again, though this time it gently cajoled rather than forcefully trying to get past his mental wall. His mind pounded with the subtle suggestions, and without realizing it, he grimaced and put a hand to his head, an attempt to forestall the coming ache.

Instantly, her fork was done on her plate, and she was half-rising from her feet out of concern.

"Tseng?"

The Turk forced himself to calm, body nearly shaking with the exertion of blocking the voices out… always hindering, never allowing. Why was he so afraid? Why couldn't he just accept them and listen? And why was he allowing his past to affect his future?

"I am fine, Elena," he bit out, though he rose from his seat in the same moment, leaving his food practically untouched. He urged his eyes to open, bringing down his hand and schooling his face into it's normal exterior, calm but dangerous. "Finish your pie," he assured her. "I will be waiting back in the laboratory. I just had an idea." The lie slipped easily from his lips due to too many years practice with it. Hiding his voices from Hojo, hiding the ghosts from those around him.

Brown eyes blinked but she did not deny his words. "Alright, Tseng. I'll be just another minute."

Without another word, Tseng turned from the table, leaving his plate behind as he did so and exiting from the lunchroom. Behind him, Elena watched his exit with curious and confused eyes, concern for him etched deeply into her features.

----

A/N: So that was a… strange chapter, to say the least. Not quite certain I really knew where it was going. Oh well. It did; however, lead me into a brilliant work of plot-moving!

(1) Pronounced 'Shee-on'

Review please! Feed my hungry muse!


	48. The Madness that Burned a Town

Thanks to all readers and reviewers!!!

Warning: Graphic imagery, some insane recollections, blood and gore

'Mental Voice, Thought'

(Demi-God speaking internally)

_Flashback_

**Chapter 48: The Madness that Burned a Town**

_As Valentine walked from the tunnel, leaving behind a woman with tears in her eyes and utter hopelessness in her expression, Sephiroth found himself watching it all with an impassivity that surprised him. Despite the ex-Turk's inflammatory words and the apparent lover's spat he had just witnessed, inside he felt numb, cold… like he had been frozen into place. _

_This was the chance he had been waiting for. To finally meet his true mother. The reason he had left Icicle after returning to life. And yet, now faced with this woman, a crying wretch of a creature with obviously no courage, he was sickened. He wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with it. Unconsciously, he swallowed thickly, unable to remove his gaze from the brunette, who had features so much like his own. _

_When the last of the booted footsteps faded, she turned towards him, her eyes sweeping over his face. He could hear Zack shifting uncomfortably behind him, but he did not want his friend to leave. He did not want to face her alone. _

_And then more tears sprung to her already watery brown eyes as she took one step forward towards him, effectively encouraging him to take an unconscious step backwards. She paused but did not seem offended. _

"_My boy," she whispered softly. "My beautiful boy… you're alive." The last was stressed, her utter joy in that fact expressed visibly on her face. _

"_No thanks to you," came Zack's voice, rife with anger and disgust. _

_Sephiroth turned his head swiftly, shooting his friend a glare that was both thankful and warning, if such a thing were even possible. But the other man shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. With a sigh, the former General returned to his mo- Lucrecia, he believed her name to be, slightly startled that in that moment, she had moved several steps closer. _

"_When Vincent told me that you were dead, despite my dreams, I… I thought all hope was lost," she continued, Zack's words not stopping her in the slightest. "I thought I would never be able to make amends for my failure… that my baby boy was lost to me forever." _

"_I…" But his voice faltered. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say to her, if indeed he had anything. And his mind was filled with so many questions; he didn't even know where to begin. Was he human? Or a monster? And his father, was he truly Hojo or was there some truth in the gunman's insinuations? And what sort of person could choose to do the types of experiments that he had heard were conducted? _

_Brown eyes looked up at him imploringly, but he wasn't exactly sure what this woman, this stranger wanted from him. "Sephiroth," she began slowly, "I don't know what to say… I… I still can't believe this. I know you must hate me." _

_He shook his head interrupting her. "I never knew you existed." _

_For a moment, she was taken aback, confusion etched deeply into her features. She furrowed her brow. "What?" _

"_Hojo told me my mother was Jenova… that I was an Ancient." It was surprising to him how easy the words flowed, even presented with this woman. No matter how much he looked at her, he still couldn't see his mother. He just saw a woman who was on her last vestiges of sanity. _

_Her face twisted up in anger. "He… lied?" Sephiroth wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, not from the indecision mixed with her fury. _

_He ignored her words, however, suddenly finding it in him to sort out the confusion and ask the questions that had been haunting him. Despite the sick feeling in his belly and the twisting of his barely understood emotions, he knew they had to be spoken aloud. _

"_How could you?" he questioned, the words spoken quietly as he stared at the floor. "For what purpose would you experiment on your own child…" he trailed off, raising his eyes to meet hers. "To claim to be human? How COULD YOU?!" The last was yelled, seemingly torn from his throat in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. His hands clenched at his side, and his body trembled._

_He felt Zack put a hand on his shoulder from behind, but even his friend's soothing touch could not quell the rising fury, the rising anger and despair. Lucrecia recoiled from his voice, entire body pulling inwards. _

"_I…" _

"_Am I even human?" Sephiroth questioned again, voice tight with his emotion. "Or am I some monster? Do you even know what I suffered at Hojo's hands? Do you even know the pain that I went through?"_

"_It was for the good of everyone!" she protested, her own voice raising its volume. Fear settled in her eyes, and she truly began to wish for her death. "The Jenova cells were supposed to lead us to the Promised Land! Where everyone could be happy!" _

_Sephiroth bit his lip, actually drawing blood. "Look around you! Everything… everyone is war torn! I destroyed entire cities, murdered hundreds… thousands all because of these Jenova cells! Is anyone happy? Am I? Are you? Was your own madness worth it all?" _

_Tears began pouring from her eyes. "You don't understand! I tried to save you. I honestly believed that what we were doing was right. I loved Hojo, and I loved you." _

_Sephiroth narrowed his eyes as Zack squeezed his shoulder, taking that small measure of comfort. "Is Hojo my father?" _

_Her gaze dropped. "I honestly don't know." At his aggravated sigh, she choked back a sob. "But you are human, wholly and completely. Despite the Jenova cells you are human. Not a monster! Whatever you did, whatever had been done, it's over now; it's the past. We can live now… and be happy." _

"_Happy?" Sephiroth repeated, voice dropping dangerously low. "As if I could just ignore everything? Are you mad, woman?" _

"_Woman?" She sagged, nearly dropping to the floor. "How I have dreamed of seeing you one day and you calling me mother. I longed to hear those words--" _

_Mossy eyes narrowed. "I have no mother. I may not know what family is or emotion really… but I know that love is not what has been done to me or – for that matter – what was done to Valentine." A sudden thought struck him. "What happened thirty years ago? Why does he believe himself to be important in my life?" _

_At his words, Lucrecia sobbed and finally fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "I can't…" she gasped out. "I still want to believe that it all had a purpose, that my pain and your pain… and even his pain were all for good." She was pitiful, this wreck of a woman crying on the floor of a fluorescently lit cave. By all truths, she should have been dead, like other remnants of the past and other remains of Hojo's insanity. _

"_I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so very sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. I only wanted to help. I did it in the name of science… and for love." _

"_Love?" He sneered at the words coming from her mouth. He doubted she even understood what it meant. He turned his back to her, unable to bear the sight of her any longer._

_This is what he had come to find? This is the mother he had hoped for? A family he hoped to have? It pained him, literally made him ache inside in a way he didn't understand. It churned his stomach, filling him with anger and sadness… irritation. _

"_I don't want your love… not from what I've seen of it," Sephiroth said quietly, looking up to see Zack watching him with a concerned stare. Even though he was usually vocal, his companion knew when to be silent. Though beneath his calm, thin lines of tension ran through his body, anger at what had been done to his best friend. _

"_I don't think I can ever understand you or that… that man," he continued, despite the sobbing gasps he heard echoing around the cave. "Nor do I think I want to. I am certain Vincent can answer whatever questions I have left. As for you… if you truly want death I would suggest seeking the nearest Lifestream upwelling. It should be enough to pull the Jenova from your body." _

_Sephiroth sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his raging emotions as he headed for the exit of the cave. He wasn't sure if he regretted finding the truth… or if he was glad to have some answers. He felt even more lost than before, especially knowing the cruelties that he had suffered. What had she done to save him? His own mother… _

_No, she was nothing more than the woman that had birthed him, and still, she hadn't done anything. She had given him up to the arms of a madman without a second thought. _

_For the good of many, sacrifice a few. How very noble. It sickened him. _

"_I'm sorry," she said again, on a ragged whisper. "Please… don't leave me alone." _

"Please, don't leave me alone… that was the last she said to me. Was I any better than her by turning my back?" Sephiroth asked aloud, though it was entirely rhetorical. He was in the Turk quarters that had been given to Zack and him. He was standing in front of the large window in the living room, gaudy curtains thrown back to give him a great view of… a destroyed city and empty streets, papers and trash blowing in the polluted breeze.

Only a scant few hours earlier, he had met his birth mother in a cave beneath a waterfall. Now, he was an emotional wreck on the inside, staring out at a ruined Midgar. He couldn't tell if this damage was his fault from six months past… or Balaam's fault from just a few days prior. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if it even mattered.

Placing blame never solved anything, and it certainly didn't help when he shoved it all at her. Knowing who to hate for what had been done to him didn't make it any easier to bear. And it hurt worse knowing it was his own flesh and blood. He couldn't understand that or Lucrecia's brand of love either. He didn't even know if he could learn to care for anyone else. He certainly didn't have any brilliant role models… or any kind of experience.

The relationship he had with Zack was something special, that much he had figured out. He had a love for his best friend, easily identified by how calm he could be around him, how soothing the dark-haired man was for his spirit. As a matter of fact, Zack had been his very first crush… way back when he had first started to actually have feelings. Learning to subjugate his emotions had been one of the first lessons Hojo had given him. To make him unfeeling, cold, so that he could kill without remorse but still be able to follow or give orders. As a result, when faced with the over-emotional cadets at ShinRa military Academy, Sephiroth had been lost.

He separated himself from them because he was unable to understand them. Zack was the first one to try and bridge the gap, coming up to him in the cafeteria one day and staying latched to his side until he "cracked" him. They quickly became best friends after that… more or less because the funny and easygoing soldier was so tenacious.

He didn't understand what those other feelings he was getting were either. He had studied sexual reproduction in the academy, knew that it involved a man and woman. However, women weren't exactly something Sephiroth understood. On the battlefield or a fight was one thing, but in a social situation, he was completely out of his depth.

Regardless, it had been a rather moot point. He had always found them to be fascinating and perhaps even attractive but in more of an abstract way, much the same way he thought his sword was mesmerizing. Sephiroth supposed that he liked them, but he would never want to take one home with him.

Still, his knowledge in the entire field didn't extend very far. They hadn't covered feelings for the same sex at the academy. In fact, it was still nearly taboo to be a homosexual in some parts of the world. Therefore, it wasn't something that was explained or talked about.

One day and completely out of nowhere, he had kissed Zack, his best friend. He still wasn't even sure why or how. True to his nature, the other man hadn't gotten angry or tried to hurt him. He had just laughed it off and said that he didn't swing that way. At least, Sephiroth had gotten a proper kiss out of the deal. Luckily, for Sephiroth, Zack was such a good friend that he had explained everything. And my… hadn't **that** been an interesting conversation.

Regardless, once Sephiroth learned that it was not really accepted yet… he vowed to keep his lips to himself. Zack had even joked about it from time to time.

"You can't really compare the two, Seph," Zack inserted easily, momentarily interrupting his little trip down memory lane. "If it was up to me, she would have suffered far worse. Not that I'm the vindictive type or anything…"

Sephiroth chewed his lip in thought. "I always wanted a family, you know," he said quietly. "Especially hearing all those stories you used to tell me about your parents. I just never thought I'd be unhappy with the one I have…"

Zack shook his head, rising to his feet to join his friend at the window. "They aren't your family, Seph. Blood doesn't make a home." He put a hand on the older male's shoulder. "Family is what you make of it… who you make of it."

The former General smiled faintly. "When did you become so wise?"

The dark-haired man playfully knocked himself on the side of the head. "I've always had a brain up here, you know. I just pick and choose when I use it."

But even his best friend's playfulness was not enough to pull him from his place of mixed up emotions. He still felt like he was wound tighter than a corkscrew, his nerves stretched thin, and his emotions all twisted up and tossed about. His eyes roamed over the destroyed city again, unable to help the words that repeated through his mind.

'I caused this.' Even if that particular destroyed structure was lost by the past battle, the truth was that just on the other side, something else had been ruined by his touch. Without him realizing it, his body began to tremble, and his hands clenched at his side. Lucrecia told him he was human, not a monster… but with all the pain he had caused and all the harm they had done, he couldn't help but wonder if being human was equated with being a monster.

"Seph." Another squeeze of the hand on his shoulder, Zack nearly recoiling from the trembling he sensed in his friends' turmoil filled body. "Sephiroth, you have to calm down."

But the former General shrugged off the soothing touch, turning away from the window and beginning to pace across the room. "Calm down?" he repeated. "Calm down? How can I do that? Just calm down? When every time I close my eyes I see him standing over me with another needle filled with something to make me burn… or Cloud's hometown and family a pit of smoking embers because of my rage, MY HANDS?" The last was roared in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

Sephiroth was no longer looking at his friend or even really speaking to him, merely expressing what was running through his mind at the moment.

_Those creatures in the tanks… the notes of a madman in the basement laboratory? Was it all true? Was he really a monster? Anger, bright and burning within him, an emotion so fierce that he couldn't even recognize it began to blaze inside, creeping into every crevice of his soul. _

_That man, that beast… he recorded everything, the diary of a madman, the journal of psychopath. Every cruel idea, every last nuance of pain and sick, twisted pleasure. Dreams he had thought only nightmares contrived by the heart of a frightened child... shown to be real, to be true in all its sadistic horror. Weary and lost, weakened by mako, his own father! His own flesh and blood! It burned him; it was the last he could take. It made him ill, violently sick. _

_His stomach turned. He thought to throw up, to burn out his mouth, his body with the cleansing fire. But... _

_She called to him. "It is because of ShinRa that you have suffered, my child," intoned the voice, one that had only started to speak to him. But she was a calm voice, soothing, and unlike Hojo, she never held back anything, always answered his questions. She claimed she was Jenova, his mother, but Sephiroth wasn't sure. _

"_Nibelheim… it has been hiding the truth from you. The residents here all work for ShinRa. They would die so that you don't know the truth." _

_More rage, eyes bright with the fury, body heating nearly past the capacity for understanding. His hand went to the hilt of the Masamune, but he hesitated. It was wrong; somehow, he knew that to take his revenge was against his nature. They were not Hojo. They were not the scientists with the needles or the vials of poison. _

"_But they were there. They looked the other way. People always do that when ShinRa is concerned. You can't honestly think that they didn't hear your screams, do you?" Her voice, so sweet and gentle, provoking him yet bringing up valuable truths that he could not deny. "Surely, someone could have saved you… You saw the monsters in the reactor," she continued, coaxing him, encouraging him to leave the mansion and head for the main part of town. "That would be your fate… but for a small trick of genetics, my son. Take me, and together, we can go to the Promised Land and be free." _

"_Free?" he repeated after her. The word was like an ignition. Freedom, something he had longed for. To get away from Hojo. To get away from the military, from being forced to kill. Freedom. _

"_But they are in your way. Those who hurt you. Those who ignored your pain and hid their secrets. They lied to you, Sephiroth. Kill them. Make them pay. Burn them!" _

_Still, he faltered, anger and rage and sadness building up within him faster than he could recognize. His belly clenched painfully, and his hand spasmed on the hilt of the Masamune. He did not draw, however, mako eyes glazed, glancing from one silent building to the other. _

"_They made you; they broke you! Hurt them, my child! Kill them, Sephiroth! Use your rage and burn them! Take your freedom!" Her voice, once soft and melodic, turned to an entrancing hiss, echoing within his head and mixing with the raging feelings. He gasped aloud and drew his Masamune without realizing it, already striding towards the sleeping and dark town. _

_If... if those dreams were real, if those nightmares had real form. Then perhaps the people he had seen, the haunting faces, they were real as well. Maybe they were the ones in the town... the ones that had hurt him. _

"_Together, we can take over the world! Together, we can go to the Promised Land. Once Nibelheim is finished, nothing can stop us!" _

_He growled, anger coursing through him more furiously now. His very veins went aflame. Out of the corner of his eye, something moved and without thinking, he called forth the Flare magic of his materia, casting it quickly towards the movement. A building went up in flames, the acrid, bitter smoke filling his nostrils. Piercing screams soon followed but he was deaf to them, blind to everything. _

"_Burn!" She laughed at him, an almost mocking sound. Or was she laughing with him? Was he laughing now? It was all so strange, like he was looking at his body from the outside. _

_Another flicker of movement. _

"_Burn!" _

_Was that his own voice? Did he summon the fire without thought? That man, falling to the ground aflame… did he do that? _

"_Mother…" No, not his voice. That was another's. Someone else's. It was all so confusing. His sword rose and fell of its own accord. He felt it slice through something, blood welling and spraying even as the blaze grew higher and higher around him. Yet, it did not touch him, as if he were immune to the fire. _

"_Liars!" he hissed. "Murderers! Burn!" Anger, like acid pouring through his soul, burning him from the inside out. He couldn't control it, the unstoppable rage. Every life he took, every building destroyed only fed his vengeance, only fed the fury. Only…_

Smack! His head nearly reeled from the blow, but it brought him back to reality, albeit painfully. He blinked his eyes, finding he was staring at the plain white-washed walls. His right cheek stung, and his face felt warm and wet. Sephiroth felt something firm against his back, something trembling against his front… but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what had happened.

"Seph?"

Zack's voice. That he recognized. Taking a deep breath, the former General cautiously swung his head, locking eyes with his onetime subordinate. Zack seemed scared, more scared than Sephiroth had ever seen him look, and worried as well. Concern was etched so deeply into his features that he appeared to have aged ten years or more.

"Zack?" His voice came out shaky and small, like a child's, and that frightened him more than anything. Sephiroth trailed his gaze around, discovering that he was pressed up against the wall in their shared apartment, both of Zack's hands shoving his shoulders with his full strength.

Visibly, the dark-haired man relaxed, relieved by the look of clarity that had returned to Sephiroth's eyes. For the second time in his life, Zack had been afraid by the look on his friend's face. It was so familiar… nearly the same madness that he had seen when Sephiroth razed Nibelheim to the ground five years prior. One minute, he was pacing across the ground, and the next he appeared to be reliving that memory, spouting nonsense that Zack couldn't even understand.

And Zack had been scared… because he didn't know if he was strong enough to hold down an insane Sephiroth… or if he even had it in him to kill his friend. Mossy eyes seemed to glow brightly, appearing their once mako green color with the hints of grey disappearing completely.

What if Jenova hadn't been gone like they had all thought? What if the bitch was so ingrained in Sephiroth's DNA that he would always have to fight her control?

One thing Zack knew for certain… he couldn't afford to tell anyone else what had happened. Or they would kill his friend on the spot.

It was anger that caused Sephiroth to burn Nibelheim five years ago. And now, it seemed any sort of heavy emotion could unbalance him… or maybe it just required rage. Curse Hojo for what he had done to Sephiroth! But at least now, he seemed to return to his own mind.

Zack heaved a sigh of relief and leaned forward, resting his head on the former General's shoulder. The tips of black spikes brushed against Sephiroth, but the older man didn't complain.

"Ya scared me, Seph," Zack admitted softly. "I didn't know if I was going to have to fight you… again." He could feel Sephiroth trembling beneath his forehead, and knew that his body was reacting in the same way. Now that the adrenaline rush was over, he found himself feeling strangely fatigued.

Yet, despite how difficult it was to remain friends with Sephiroth, Zack was not going to give up on him. No matter what he had to go through, he was determined to show Sephiroth what true humanity was like.

"There's something wrong with me, Zack," Sephiroth replied quietly, his voice heavy with defeat. "I'm not normal."

Zack laughed, though it came out hollower than he would have liked. "No one's normal, Seph. You just got a heavier dose of insanity than the rest of us. I mean, look at Reno… that boy's as strange as they come, and he seems to be doing… okay. Well, I guess that's the word you'd use."

"Why can't I hate her?" the former General questioned, again switching subjects. "I want to. I want to pretend as if she means nothing to me since I never knew her, but a part of me is disappointed… and I suppose sad. I just don't understand." He closed his eyes and laid his head against the wall. "I don't know what I am supposed to do with these… emotions. I'm supposed to be a machine, Zack. I don't know what to do with humanity."

The spiky-haired man was well accustomed to Sephiroth's change in topics. He didn't even blink. He couldn't imagine what someone would think if they were stumble into the room right now… not with Zack still holding the General against the wall with his head on the man's shoulder. His body was pressed directly at Sephiroth's, while the older man seemed to be in defeat.

"I don't think anyone does, Seph." Zack paused, searching for the right words to soothe his friend's fears. "You can't expect to be perfect or understand everything or even always make the right choices. You just gotta be and accept the consequences when they come along. You got a second chance now… most people can't say that. As for not hating her… well, it's just that blood thing. I don't hate my blood father, despite what he did to me and my mom. I just can't. And that right there proves that you know more than you think. If you were truly evil… you would be able to hate easily." It was quite possibly the longest, most encouraging speech he had ever given, but Sephiroth had the knack for doing that, making him the sappiest person on Gaia.

Sephiroth was quiet for a moment, absorbing Zack's words before smiling faintly and shaking his head. "Like always, you make absolutely no sense." He paused before ruffling a gloved hand through dark spikes. "I'm surprised you put up with my insanity."

Zack grinned, raising his head and backing off from the former General now that he was certain Sephiroth was back to himself. Familiar and sane, albeit confused, mossy-green eyes stared back at him, as well as a calm and collected face. The one twisted with anger and sorrow, hatred and fury, from before had been frightening.

"Tit for tat, Seph," Zack returned easily. "I drive you crazy with my outrageous and flirtatious behavior… and you go a little nutso every once in a while. It's give and take, buddy."

Sephiroth shook his head, frowning slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared out into the living room, taking his gaze away from Zack. "Except when I go 'nutso' – as you so elegantly put it – people die."

"And no virgins are safe when Zack is on the prowl," countered the dark-haired man easily, attempting to not allow his friend to sink back into self-pity.

The former General rolled his eyes. "I'm being serious, Zack."

"Yeah?" questioned the former SOLDIER. "And so am I." He tapped his head with one gloved finger. "I got voices in my head from the Planet… the same one that gave you a second chance. And if Gaia thought that you weren't deserving of it, I'm sure I'd get the message loud and clear." He winced slightly. "Sometimes a little too loudly and less clear, though."

A silver brow was raised, a gesture that Sephiroth somehow managed to make elegant. "The only voices that don't make any sense to me are yours," he intoned with a hint of playfulness.

"Oh, sure, pick on me why don't you? Everyone else does. Why, if it isn't that blonde Turk telling me my skills are from the Stone Age, then it's you insulting my intelligence." Zack sighed, the noise a bit too loudly to be anything but playful aggravation.

"Blonde Turk?" Sephiroth questioned, suddenly feeling mischievous. "You know… for someone who aggravates you… you do spend a lot of time talking about her." He cast a look at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

Crystalline eyes narrowed at him slightly in both confusion and amusement. "Are you implying that I have the hots for one rookie Turk? Is my Sephy trying to make a joke?"

The former General shrugged off-handedly. "I don't know, Zack. You're the one bringing shame upon the SOLDIER name."

The spiky-haired one gaped for a moment, before clucking his tongue in playful annoyance. "You and her both will eat your words; I guarantee it." He vowed before continuing, in an overly dramatic and prophetic voice. "One of these days the world's gonna come to an end, and everyone's going to be wondering: 'where is Zack why won't he come save us?' And where will I be?"

Sephiroth shook his head and rubbed his temple with one finger, slipping out of Zack's range with a smooth movement and heading towards the kitchen. He recognized his former subordinate's mood. Though unschooled in human emotion, he was well versed in "Zack", if there was such a thing. And right now, the younger man was working off his confusion and worry by being a complete idiot.

"I don't know, Zack," he returned. "Where will you be?" Booted footsteps on the floor gave him knowledge that his companion was following him.

The spiky-haired man went silent for a moment, ending his tirade and causing Sephiroth to glance over his shoulder. Zack was chewing on his lip in thought, his brow furrowed deeply.

"Well?" Sephiroth questioned.

Zack snorted. "As soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know."

"Ah. I shall wait with bated breath, then."

"Don't patronize me, Seph," warned Zack as they wandered into the kitchen. He plopped down on a bar stool, eyes roaming over what little alcohol was in stock on the counter. The prior residents had kept it pretty well stocked; either that or ShinRa had made it mandatory. Perhaps now was a good time for a drink… even if the mako made it near impossible for them to get completely wasted.

Before he could voice his thought, however, a shot glass plunked down on the counter in front of him as Sephiroth took the seat next to him, already reaching for the scotch. In that much, they had the same tastes. Zack learned his from Lexas, the man he really considered his father. And he had been the one to introduce alcohol to his older friend.

Brandy was good; Whiskey was better. Scotch great… but it turned out that even Tequila was stronger than mako. Zack discovered that the hard way.

Never again. At least, he had promised himself that.

They downed a couple shots in silence before Zack decided to breach the topic that had been bugging him since after the conversation with Lucrecia and subsequent discussion with Vincent. "Do you really agree with him, then?" the spiky-haired man inquired. "Are you better not knowing?"

Sephiroth paused, drink halfway to his mouth as he considered his younger friend's words. His mind recalled the conversation with Vincent, a much easier one than the fiasco with Lucrecia. It seemed once he was done meeting with the woman who had birthed him, the ex-Turk was more inclined to talk.

…"_You said that after I met her… you would answer my questions," Sephiroth said after about an hour of riding in tense silence. He wanted the answers while his mind was still fresh with her words, while he still had the patience and the sanity to deal with the truth. _

_Vincent inclined his head only slightly. "That I did. What do you wish to know?" He was so calm, even for a Turk. Sephiroth wondered if the man even broke. _

"_You said you were there… when Lucrecia and Hojo chose to experiment with the Jenova cells. Yet, you don't look any older than I. Please explain." _

_The ex-Turk frowned, but answered the question anyway. "Technically, you could say that I am fifty-eight years old, for that is how long I have lived. Yet, due to my failure and my pride, Hojo did something to me, and for thirty long years I slept in stasis. I did not age." He turned his gaze towards Sephiroth, gray eyes softening. "We are alike in many ways, Sephiroth. We share some of the same scars." _

"_What did he do?" Zack inquired, inserting himself easily into the conversation. He asked not only to slake his own curiosity but for Sephiroth's sake as well. Sometimes, it helped knowing that one was not alone in their suffering. _

"_He broke me," Vincent answered softly, shifting his gaze to stare at the far horizon. "My body and my soul. There were countless injections of Jenova and mako, experiments not fit for dogs… and then the last straw, he forced into my body the four materia summons that contained the mythical Apocalypse Demons, though we know now them to be demi-gods. I don't know how that was possible, or what Hojo did to bond them with my body, but the end result was that I became a monster."_

_A realization and a memory both hit Sephiroth soundly in the skull, nearly so physical that he was knocked from the saddle. But he kept his balance even as he spoke aloud. "It was you," he commented, training his gaze on the gunman. "You were the one who tore apart the wolves… the one that killed my mother." _

_Vincent smiled, though it was sardonic. "So that was the story he told you? It was the same that he told me. That Lucrecia shot herself with my gun. That I killed her. Of course, I know now that never happened. Hojo only wanted to hurt me by saying such. And yes… that was me, though I scarce knew what was going on. I was half out of my mind back then with the drugs and the mako… and their voices arguing back and forth in my head."_

"_Why would Hojo do such things to you in the first place?" Zack wondered out loud, brow furrowed in confusion. Vincent was being surprisingly open and vocal… for that matter. From what he had heard, the gunman was usually private and withdrawn. So why so open with Sephiroth, the man he had killed six months prior? He had a feeling that next answer would solve many of his questions. _

_Another sardonic and grim smile. "Because I dared to touch what was his." _

_Sephiroth frowned. "Lucrecia?" _

_The ex-Turk nodded. "I loved her once, a long time ago… before I knew of her betrayal and her lies." He shook his head. "I thought I was protecting her when I confronted Hojo about the research. I thought I was saving the life of the woman I loved and the child that could have been mine… but instead, I had fallen into their trap." _

"_The… child? Then back in the crater? Those words…" Sephiroth trailed off, slightly stunned by the insinuations. _

"_Lucrecia… a woman that would do anything for the one she claimed to love. Even sleep with another man only to return to the arms of her beloved later that night." Vincent paused, grip unintentionally tightening on the reins and causing his chocobo to "kweh" in irritation. He loosened his hold apologetically and glanced over at Sephiroth. "It seems only Hojo truly knows which of us is your father, and I can't trust his word. Every utterance that ever poured from his mouth was a lie." _

_Sephiroth was, to put it mildly, shocked. It seemed that everything that had ever been told to him was possibly a lie. His mother was not Jenova, but a human woman named Lucrecia. He was not just a monster… he had emotions as well. And now, his father might not be Dr. Hojo, the insane scientist, but Vincent Valentine, the ex-Turk. _

"_If you want, we can do a blood test," the gunman murmured. "A simple procedure to determine the truth… but I do not think it is necessary." _

"_What do you mean?" Zack asked. "Do you know without a doubt, then?" _

_Vincent shook his head. "No, I just think that we are better off not knowing. For both our sakes. Otherwise, my guilt would be too much to bear… and his self-hatred would overwhelm him." _

Sephiroth blinked to clear away the memory, finishing off his drink with one quick swallow before responding. "I think Vincent is wise in this matter," he said quietly. "It is a no-win situation for either of us."

Zack frowned. "I'm afraid you are going to have to explain that to us non-broody people."

The former General sighed, tracing nonsensical symbols on the counter top with a leather-covered finger. "If he were to find out that he was my father, he would feel even guiltier for not being able to prevent what happened, more so than what he felt at not being able to help an innocent. The burden of his remorse would increase and become so weighty, I'm not sure he would be able to carry it. Whereas, if I find out that Hojo is in fact my father, then I will feel all the more hatred for myself. In my blood, I would carry his taint… plus the knowledge that it was my own flesh and blood that caused me so much pain. At least this way, I can believe there is a chance, and so can he without making it final."

Zack blinked at what was possibly the most words his friend had ever spoken, at one time and took another shot of the scotch. "Well, there is one upside to Hojo being your father," he drawled.

Sephiroth raised a brow. "And that would be?"

The spiky-haired one laughed. "Look at it this way. If Vincent was your father… that would make Cid your step-father… mother… whatever!" He chuckled even louder at that, his mind filled with images of Sephiroth and Cid Highwind sitting down to have a heart to heart or going fishing together, of all things. In fact, that only made him laugh all the worse, clutching at the counter top lest he fall from his stool. His ever-so-vivid mind was conjuring up pictures… so many amusing pictures that he could hardly contain himself.

The former General frowned, not sure what his friend found so amusing. "You idiot," he said with a shake of his head. "You're making no sense."

"Fishing!" Zack cackled as he struggled to catch his breath. He glanced over at his friend, the thought of him in a bright orange life vest and big-rimmed brown hat sending him into gales of laughter once again. "Can you--" Pant "--imagine?" he gasped out. "You? Fishing?"

Sephiroth's mouth turned up into a true smile as he also began to laugh, working his own imagination until he could picture what had turned his gregarious friend into a fit of girlish giggling.

The great General Sephiroth fishing along side Mr. Cigarettes-and-Tea himself, indeed.

---

A/N: So… is Vincent Sephiroth's father? Canon-wise, no. But in this AU, I'm leaving it open. It's up to your own interpretation so feel free to guess away. And seriously, try picturing Cid and Sephiroth fishing together, and you will laugh nearly as hard as I did.

Oh, I wish someone could draw me a picture.

For tips on things to come, story discussion, sneak previews and the like, feel free to visit my website, http://crya2evans. and the Forum on there. Thanks!


	49. Two Different Worlds

Thanks to Katreal for reviewing! This is for you!

A/N: Written in a slightly different style than usual, but that's just how I am. I like to explore. I hope you enjoy!

(Voice in mind)

'Internal voice'

**Chapter 49: Two Different Worlds**

It was odd that she should feel nervous. Nanaki was her friend. She didn't normally fear anything… or even feel anything anywhere close to anxious. She was the Great Ninja Yuffie; she had helped take down Sephiroth, although admittedly he came back to life, but still, she had no fear! Or maybe the coiling and twisting in her gut was because of the slight listing of the airship.

Ulp!

She couldn't really be sure but at the moment, Yuffie was starting to turn a little green and her knees wobbled. She hated flying. The ninja moaned and leaned forward, laying her suddenly aching head on the door to Nanaki's room with a slight thump, trying to quell the sudden spinning motion that had begun in her vision. All thoughts of knocking and going inside were banished to the back of her mind as she struggled to merely keep down her rather large lunch of choco nuggets and ketchup.

She had been attempting to speak to her friend before this sudden bout of accursed nausea. She and Nanaki were presently on their way to Wutai, courtesy of one somewhat aggravated Cid, though she hadn't the slightest reason why. The ninja had teased the pilot for a while, and he had gruffly tried to cuff her before a bout of airsickness had assailed her. She never did learn why he was so pissed or why Vinny was nowhere to be found, though Yuffie had a guess that the two were related.

After an hour, her sickness had abated, and she had sought out Nanaki, hoping to put him in a cheery mood with the return of his necklace, at least before they got to Wutai.

Yuffie remembered clearly her conversation with Archer and knew in her heart that he was in effect right about nearly everything. What did it matter what Nanaki looked like? So long as they could continue to be friends everything should work out, even if she had to push aside her deeper feelings for him. There were some things that she could dwell on and forever long for, but at the present moment, there simply wasn't time for her to brood and gripe. Not with the world in danger. And it wasn't as if she had lost him completely. Besides, their little group was both lucky and unlucky in the same instance. There was a good chance he would be human again.

There was a startling sort of clear fear in that fact as well… because if he did became a human once more, she would again be facing the heart-rending truth that she still couldn't be with him because of that damn engagement! She'd rather have Nanaki in his lion form than be with that Uryuu Douwe! Ugh, just the thought of him made her scowl deeper, which promptly made her stomach turn again. She choked down the rising nausea.

Gawd, that old man needed to pilot better.

Yuffie knew without a shadow of a doubt that somewhere along the way her feelings for her best friend had surpassed general friendliness and had driven into deeper, darker waters. What chance did they have after all? So what if he was the one who understood her? What could she do if he was the one that made her heart leap and her skin go all tingly? She was fated to marry someone else and spend the rest of her life in boring ignominy, rotting away as a lady over a country she wouldn't really get to lead herself.

That just pissed her off.

And dammit if her dreams weren't haunted by things that could never be. She wanted Nanaki, and she knew that much when every time he kissed her. She trembled every time she even thought about it. The only reason she had withdrawn was because she was afraid: of what her father would say, of what she might do… of what he might do. And in a way, it was the worst choice Yuffie knew she could have made. It had sent the entirely wrong message to her friend, and now, she was trying to make up for it by returning the broken but now repaired chain.

That was… as soon as the floor stopped moving and her stomach quit performing flip-flops, twisting into an undoable knot. Another moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and tried to relax. She attempted to pretend that she was on solid ground, fighting or sparring, something easy.

A brief click was her only warning, the sound barely registering in the back of her mind. The door suddenly swung inwards. Yuffie was caught off balance, as well as dizzy from being sick. Her arms pin wheeled, her eyes snapped open, and she tumbled inside… only to land on something warm, furry, and slightly squishy. A familiar scent engulfed her, and without thought, she snuggled down into the cushion that caught her fall. Her nausea seemed to abate some although in the back of her mind, she registered just what – who – she had landed on top of.

"Yuffie?" Nanaki asked quizzically, nuzzling the suddenly motionless ninja with his nose. She made an unidentifiable noise.

"Mmm…. warm," she murmured in response, a teasing grin trying to force its way onto her face, despite her efforts to remain impassive.

The lion wolf chuckled lightly and playfully flicked her with his tail, the fire giving her a startle but not leaving any harm. Yuffie yelped and leapt up, rubbing at her thigh and pretending to scowl at him.

"Nanaki," she whined. "Ya didn't have to burn me."

He laughed again, sitting back on his haunches to look up at her. "You fell on me," he accused simply. "Was there a reason you were sleeping on my door?"

To her horror and greater embarrassment, Yuffie felt a slight blush creep into her cheeks. Her hand unconsciously went to her pocket, patting the chain that seemed like it was trying to burn a hole through her nearly indecent shorts. Nanaki cocked his head to the side as he studied her, finding it slightly amusing to startle the ninja from her normally unshakable footing.

"Yes!" she answered quickly, perhaps a bit too much so. "There was, in fact, a reason I was at your door." She nodded her head, flushing again at his amused stare as he waited for her to finish. "I wanted to give you something before we landed at Wutai." She paused and put a finger to her chin. "If I remember correctly, Cid screamed something about it would be in a little over an hour or so… That was before he kicked me out of the cockpit. Something's up with him."

The lion wolf nodded intently as he rose and moved further into the room, away from the still open doorway and the prying ears of anyone else who would be listening. Yuffie followed his lead, closing the door behind her and again patting the necklace in her pocket.

"I am not certain which statement I want to tackle first." Nanaki chuckled. "Hmm, a gift for me or Cid's strange behavior?" His tail swished through the air, fire waving like a giant signal in front of her and momentarily distracting her. Yuffie's mouth went suddenly dry.

"Let's tackle that which has made the old man grumpy, first," she expressed with a solid flare of her hand before appropriating the only chair in the room and planting herself down upon it. "You'd think now that he was finally getting some he wouldn't be such of a moody old man!"

"Yuffie!" Nanaki admonished. "Such words from a child," he teased before frowning as much as he was capable of doing. He leapt onto his bed, laying down slightly and putting his head on his paws as he regarded her. "Still, you are correct. Vincent is back, so why would Cid suddenly be all 'frothed at the mouth' so to speak?"

The ninja shrugged, idly twirling a hand about on the top of the table. "Maybe they had a fight? I don't see Vinny around anywhere after all." She frowned and kicked her legs out, trying to figure out what they had argued about. She sighed. "Stupid old men, always overcomplicating things."

There was a quiet and manly chuckle in the back of her mind, and Barinthus was obviously amused by her statement. (Someone else I know likes to overcomplicate things,) he commented. (Such as your friendship with the Iyatokan.)

Yuffie cocked her head to the side without thinking, her brown eyes taking on a blue glow as she listened to Barinthus. 'Iyatokan?' she questioned, momentarily distracted from the original line of thought with the unfamiliar word.

Nanaki watched her intently curious but remained silent. He recognized the look in her eyes. Unlike the others, Yuffie hadn't really got a hang of speaking to someone in her mind or carrying on an outward conversation as well. It was plainly obvious when Barinthus was speaking to her because she tended to forget she was talking to someone else as well. It was actually rather amusing.

Still, he wondered what the water god was saying.

(Yes,) Barinthus answered with a slight smile. (That is the name of Nanaki's tribe. The Iyatoka… or did you not know?) He frowned when she shook her head, a motion that made Nanaki smile. (You should ask Suzaku more about this; she is more learned than I am. After all, she is their patron.) He paused, seeming to think for a moment before chuckling loudly. (I suppose she was too excited about her animum bond to even think that he did not know.)

"Wow!" Yuffie said aloud. She turned surprised eyes on her companions. "Iyatoka… that's the name of your clan!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Barinthus said so." She paused. "He also said for you to ask Suzaku; she'll know more."

Nanaki blinked in surprise. "That is… out of nowhere…" he commented before turning inwards.

'Is that true, Suzaku?'

Instantly, the warm presence within him flared brighter. He could always feel her with him, but Suzaku often left him to his own business and privacy. She didn't intrude on his thoughts. He enjoyed her company but was infinitely glad she was not as vocal as some of the others. Suzaku was very perceptive.

(Mmm,) the phoenix murmured, thinking deeply. He could just see her lazily stretching and ruffling her feathers. (Yes, my fire child. She is correct. I give you my apologies. With Balaam and the Conclave, I had forgotten.)

Yuffie shrugged, momentarily distracting him. "You know how my mind works… I jump from one topic to the next." She peered at him for a moment. "What did the old fireball say?"

"I am Iyatokan," he answered before pausing, speaking to his demi-goddess as well. 'What else do you know of me?'

(You are not the last of your kind. There are others; they are just in hiding.)

Nanaki was stunned, to say the least. He had always wanted to believe that there were others and that he wasn't alone. In the end, practicality had won out. Nevertheless, the truth was there now. Suzaku would not lie to him.

"D… do you know… where?" he asked breathlessly, not even realizing he had spoken aloud until Yuffie looked at him quizzically. His heart thudded loudly in his chest and he swore his tail wagged with expectation. He almost didn't dare breathe.

Suzaku smiled softly, endeared by her animus' emotion. (Yes, my fire child, I do.)

Such a simple statement… yet, it brought a powerful response. All at once Nanaki beamed and had to hold back tears of joy. He gulped loudly, blinking rapidly as emotion flooded through him, nearly too quick to tell. His tail thumped on the bed before he could control himself.

"Nanaki?" Yuffie questioned aloud, confused by the strange flurry of emotions that crossed across his lupine features. She moved from her chair to sit on the bed next to him, threading her fingers through his soft, reddish-orange hair. He angled his head nearer to her touch before turning his gentle, amber gaze on her.

"My clan… Suzaku knows where they are."

For a moment, Yuffie stiffened, another awful truth striking her. He was so happy… she could see it. At the prospect of finding others, she had never seen him so excited. What use would he have for her then? What would he need her friendship for when he would no longer be alone? She stifled a sigh and forced a smile onto her face, knowing above all things that she should at least be happy for him.

"I… that's great, Aki," she said quietly, offering him up a small smile.

"I'm not alone anymore," Nanaki nearly whispered with another toothy grin on his face. "I might have more family, more kin!"

(Patience, Nanaki. There is not yet time now to go chasing after them. It takes much time to get to their hidden home, and you must worry about Balaam now,) Suzaku whispered gently. (After the battle is through, I will take you to them.)

The demi-beast nodded. "Of course, Suzaku. I understand." He heaved a sigh of relief, his whole body nearly trembling with his excitement. To think, for forty-eight years and especially after the death of his mother, he thought himself alone, the last of a dying breed. Although he was treated well by those at Cosmo Canyon and Bugenhagen had loved him dearly, he could never shake the feeling that he belonged somewhere else. But now… it was almost too much to absorb.

"Well, we had better go find them, shouldn't we?" Yuffie suggested, not having heard Suzaku's words. Her speech was almost hesitant, her heart sinking at Nanaki's phrase: _"I'm not alone anymore."_ Then what was she? Did he always feel alone even when they were together? What of their friendship? Did that not matter as well?

The feeling that she was about to lose something important to her came back with full force, pushing angrily at her emotions. She knew she was probably blowing it way out of proportion, but it was as if her feelings were beyond her control.

Nanaki shook his head, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil inside his best friend. "Until after Balaam is defeated, I won't go looking. Afterwards though, I will." He looked up at her. "You will come with me?" he questioned with a grin. "I am certain the Great Ninja Yuffie would be quite helpful."

She was certain he didn't mean it the way he said it, almost making her sound like a tool rather than his best friend. But although she was nearly positive he didn't want to upset her, she was doing a good job of it on her own. She wanted to say no, to throw a tantrum and scream and yell about the unfairness of it all. She wanted to toss his words back in his face and break out into tears while fighting in a rage. Those emotions welled up so strongly inside of her, she was shocked at their intensity. But none of it came out. Instead, she smiled gently and nodded.

"Yeah. I wouldn't let you down, Aki," she assured him, again running her fingers through his hair.

He rumbled affectionately deep in his chest. "Didn't you say you came here for a reason?" he questioned after a moment, finally switching their conversation back to her original visit.

Yuffie paused in her movements, staring at something unceasing as it seemed the necklace seemed to burn a hole in her pocket. She had nearly forgotten. With a slight sigh, the ninja stood to her feet, digging her hand deep into the pocket while Nanaki watched her curiously, immediately causing her to flush.

"Close your eyes," she ordered, forcing a teasing note into her voice. "I want it to be a surprise."

He gave her a baleful look before closing his eyes and obeying her. "You are so strange at times, Yuffie," he commented with a shrug.

She ignored his comment, pulling out the newly fixed chain. It clinked in her hands, glinting prettily in the dim light from his room. The charm was bright and polished, the words on the back now plainly visible. For a moment, she felt foolish. The necklace was obviously a lover's gift, and she was no lover… but she wouldn't just throw it on the bed and walk out either. She might as well get it over with.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted up the amulet, placing it around his neck with her fingers lingering on the metal charm. It settled on his form with a faint weight before a light buzzing feeling worked from her fingers to her arm.

Yuffie frowned and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Strange," she murmured as she pulled back.

He opened one eye. "Can I open them?" he said, then noticing her expression, changed his mind. "What is wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," Yuffie commented before gesturing towards the necklace. "So, what do you think?"

On cue, amber eyes turned downwards, recognizing the feel of the chain on his chest. He rose up on his haunches, using one of his fore legs to grasp the amulet and bring it up for inspection. But even as his gaze roamed over the newly polished charm… his entire body began to buzz and warm greatly, causing his limbs to tremble.

Yuffie's eyes widened in surprise when he started to glow, the same reddish-white light that was so similar to his limit break… but not. She heard him gasp slightly moments before the light flared, becoming so bright she was forced to turn her head away lest she be blinded. The room was literally filled with the pressing of a light magic, buzzing about her tangibly. Something pulsed… once, twice until suddenly a surge of power echoed and the room went completely dark, even the lights snuffed out as effectively as if the switch had been thrown.

The ninja's eyes flew open when she heard the sound of a thump, as if someone had fallen to the floor before the lights flickered and flared back to life. She turned and gasped, finding that instead of his Iyatokan form, Nanaki was now returned to his demi-human state, lying on the floor curled in a protective ball, seemingly unconscious.

It had to be… she was certain of it now. There was no other explanation. Yuffie was convinced that his transformations had to do with the amulet, though how it worked she had no clue.

Without wasting any time, she dropped to her knees, running her fingers lightly over the side of his face. Her irritation and sorrow from earlier vanished in light of her concern as he moaned lightly before opening his eyes, the startling bright golden orbs that she remembered glinting up at her. They were confused and a bit pained but infinitely clear, and she offered him up a nervous smile. His body twitched as he attempted to move, a realization striking him. His gaze turned to hers, questioning and she confirmed it with a nod.

"I think I understand it… partly," Yuffie commented quietly as he struggled to a sitting position. It wasn't easy shifting from one body to the next for him, and sometimes it could be quite painful. His bones either lengthened or shortened, depending on which, and he had to deal with the greater strength in his demi-human body, adjusting to the new attributes and abilities he could only access in that form as well.

He chuckled dryly, though his face had no humor. "At least one of us does then," Nanaki commented, shaking his head. He ran a slightly trembling hand through his orangish-red locks as he propped himself on one hand, faintly taloned fingers catching on a few snags. It was then that both he and the ninja realized that she was still leaning over him, her hand on the side of his face.

Flushing brightly, they separated, Yuffie quickly retracting her disobedient hand. She glared at the appendage as if it had done so on its own accord. In fact, she seemed so serious that Nanaki couldn't help but laugh, despite his irritation at having transformed again without understanding the cause.

"What?" she demanded, giving him a baleful glare.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Your hand does not have a mind of its own," he teased gently. "I assure you, the control is all yours, even when it comes to nice and shiny orbs of materia."

She flushed even deeper than, nearly to the roots of her hairs as she playfully punched him. "That's not fair," the ninja whined, not really sure what she was talking about. "And here I was trying to pretend nothing happened again." The words slipped from her mouth faster than she could prevent them, her lips again preceding her thoughts. The mood instantly shifted from slightly playful to downright tense.

Nanaki immediately frowned, a slightly downcast and sorrowful looking taking over his features as his gaze dropped to the floor and he shifted his stance. He brought one knee up to his chest as he leaned forward on it, draping an arm across it as if he were protecting himself.

"Of course," he commented.

"I didn't mean it like that," inserted Yuffie hastily, that disobedient hand of hers reaching out to lay itself gently on his arm. "I'm just--" Her mind, which usually causes her mouth to speak without thinking, for once could not come up with the proper words.

"--confused," he finished for her, finally raising his eyes so that their gazes could lock. "I know," admitted the demi-human. "I am, too. It was easy to say back then that we would just take it as it goes, but this damn thing…" He gestured vaguely towards his body referring to the transformations. "It just doesn't even operate on the same wavelength as us." He paused, and his gaze shifted to stare at the wall, cheeks coloring slightly as he considered what he was about to say, but Yuffie was his closest friend, the person he foremost trusted now that Bugenhagen was gone. Suzaku didn't count; she was an entirely different matter. He was certain that the ninja wouldn't laugh at him, though she would probably be just as embarrassed.

"I would get used to be a human, or near to one anyways. Enough so, that I would begin to think like one, to want like one…" It was hard for him to say, and he knew it would only make it more difficult if he locked eyes with her, so he remained staring at the plain whitewash wall, though his every instinct screamed for him to look into those brown orbs. "But then I changed again, and it all came crashing down… the truth of what I really was… and what could never be."

Yuffie gulped over a lump in her throat, the pure sorrow in her friends tone and the way he refused to meet her eyes enough to cause her to feel as if she were going to cry. She bit back the sobs, however, as she struggled to find the words to say. Or perhaps it wasn't in her to be that encouraging and tactful. Maybe it would be better if she was just herself and blurted out the nonsense.

"I was fooled, too," she jumped in. "I… I started to believe the same things," the ninja added in a much softer voice. "That's why I kinda distanced myself from you for a little while there." She rubbed a hand through her hair in a shame-faced manner. "The necklace was admittedly a 'forgive me' present."

He smiled faintly, looking up at her with an unidentifiable emotion shining in his eyes. "You didn't need to apologize," he said. "I did the very same thing." He lowered his gaze again, however, resisting the strange and sudden urge to kiss her. Something, he couldn't do in his beast form. Well, he supposed that he could… but he didn't even want to consider the dynamics of that. Still, perhaps it was just societal stigma, but he refused to force her to make that sort of decision.

There was a moment of silence between them, not really tense and uncomfortable, just quiet as both were caught in their internal musings considering the newest turn of events. It was brought to Yuffie's attention that she still had not divulged her discovery.

"I think I know what's causing the transformations," suggested Yuffie. She furrowed her brow, reaching forward to rub her fingers over the charm on the flamel necklace, the soft and cool chains clinking in her touch. "It's this."

Nanaki raised a brow, using his free hand to take the amulet from her grasp as he considered it. "This?" questioned the demi-human, turning it over and over as he looked at it, finally noticing that the necklace was bright and shiny like it hadn't been before.

The dirt had been cleaned off, and what was this? An inscription? He peered thoughtfully at it.

Yuffie nodded as he perused the necklace. "It's the only connection. You changed to Iyatokan when it broke and back to a demi-human when you put it on again." She put a hand to her chin in consideration as her mind began to run free. "The only thing I can't figure is exactly what triggers it other than the amulet. Because, obviously, the first time you wore it, you didn't change. Something had to have happened, but what? There is a missing link here, I am sure of it, but I just don't know what it is."

"Yuffie?"

But she ignored him, still hypothesizing aloud as her brow furrowed. He shook his head, thinking she looked just a bit cute in her 'thinking' mode.

"It's strange if you think about the shape, you know a flamel? No one seems to know what they really stands for. Bugenhagen had said something about alimony… No, that's not it. Architec- No, that's not it, either."

"Yuffie!" he said a bit louder.

She blinked owlishly before returning his gaze to her. "What?" asked the ninja innocently.

He laughed, waving a hand at her. "You went off on your own there for a minute, the idea of another quest making you forget all about me."

Yuffie reddened again, the warm flush spreading across her cheeks. "Oops, sorry… were you trying to ask me something?"

Nanaki nodded, flipping the amulet around so that she could see the back of it and tapping the inscription with one clawed finger. "Have you seen this?"

"Yeah, when I asked Archie to fix it for me. He pointed it out. One of the names seems to be Wutaiian."

"That's what I noticed." He sighed. "I wish I knew what it all meant."

The ninja agreed heartily. "We'll be landing in Wutai soon," she idly commented, switching topics. When he hmm'ed in understanding, she uneasily broached the topic. "So…. are we alright now?"

All right? Nanaki couldn't help but wonder if he would ever feel that way. His emotions were twirling and swirling inside of him. He wanted, but he couldn't have. He desired, but it was beyond his reach. And now, they were headed for her home, where her father would coax and wheedle her once more. She would become stressed. They would argue, and she would possibly storm out again. Her fiancé was there, too.

Nanaki had to resist the urge to growl.

Yet, they were friends. Between them, they at least had that much.

"Yes," he nodded. "We are."

Yuffie smiled softly. Truth… smacking them always like some bitter taste to a sweet fruit or a train on a rush-hour day. She wanted to kiss him, too, though she wasn't sure where that sudden desire came from. Still, seeing him in his demi-human form brought back all those feelings that she had struggled earlier to suppress. Archer's words reverberated in her mind.

Well, not all adults were right. There were just some things that couldn't be… no matter how much she wanted them. And having Nanaki as more than a friend was one of those.

"Good."

Another moment of silence, soft ticking of the clock on the wall until Nanaki cleared his throat. "Hey, Yufs?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for the necklace."

She blushed, unable to help it, considering what the inscription read. "You're welcome, Aki. Anytime."

Twenty minutes later found the two friends watching their ride fly away into the distance, surly and distempered pilot barely able to give away a farewell. Truthfully, it was more or less like they were dumped out onto the ground at Wutai with Cid barely putting the ship in hover-mode long enough for them to climb out safely. He hadn't even seemed to notice that Nanaki had changed back.

But given his mood, Yuffie couldn't even find it in her to tease him or call him "old man." He was almost scary… kind of like Reeve when he got pissed off. The President was more dangerous than Sephiroth during those times and usually Reno got the brunt of it. Poor guy.

Exchanging glances, the ninja taking a deep and calming breath, the two companions began to head towards her home, the edges of the city not far. Even from the distance, they could still see the remains of the two attacks, a fact which made Yuffie feel slightly guilty that she had not been there to help.

Nanaki must have sensed her mood because he gave her a look from the corner of his eye. "It couldn't be helped," he commented.

She sighed. "Yeah, I know. Still, it's my home."

He nodded in understanding. He felt the same general emotion of helplessness when he had come across his own home, burned and destroyed. "What do you think you're father's going to say?" he questioned.

Yuffie frowned. "About what?"

"About everything, I suppose." He shrugged, not sure himself.

"I'll tell you what dear old father would say," came a voice from behind the two, "He would say that he is disappointed the princess has yet to become a bride."

Yuffie froze and narrowed her eyes, irritation immediately filling her to the brim. She knew that voice, unfortunately, and knew it all to well. It was her fiancé.

Uryuu Douwe.

---

A/N: Ehn… somewhat of a short chapter. But then, if I added in all the other stuff it would be too long. Oh, well.

Review please!


	50. Sephy and Mr Tseng

Thanks to readers and reviewers!!

A/N: A more humorous chapter, but in the light of what's to come, a nice relief. Perhaps a slight bit of OOC, but it's all in good fun.

**Chapter 50: Sephy and Mr. Tseng (Or Ways to Torture Your Commander 101)**

The keening cry of the Chocoboro was loud and ear-splitting, but that did not deter Rude in the least as he executed a deathblow, slamming a fist into the monster's side and immediately encasing it in a solid block of ice. The azure creature looked even more bluish within its icy prison, and the bald Turk grunted as he changed hands, blasting into the block with a strong blow and effectively shattering it and the deceased monster within into far too many pieces to count.

They rained to the ground, faintly reminiscent of snow as Rude shook out his hand and took a step back, casually adjusting his sunglasses. In front of him, Reno idly clapped and shook his head at his friend. They had just spent the afternoon wandering the streets, cleaning up the monsters and catching up on old times. The Chocoboro was the latest enemy they had encountered, not that it could stand up to the might of Rude's newly discovered icy abilities. It turned out that having an anima brought more than just an annoying sidekick.

Then again, he couldn't help but wonder if their efforts were really worth it. Most of the people in Midgar had already left. They were willing to try and survive after Meteor, but once Balaam had started attacking, they began to call it "cursed" and had moved on. The city was quickly becoming deserted, and Rude pondered if there was anyone left to protect.

Reno sighed as they started back on their path, leaving behind the shattered remains of the monster corpse and icy puddles in their wake. "How many of those damn things did Hojo make?" he questioned aloud. It seemed for every brand of chocobo, there was a Chocoboro to match. He had heard about the trouble the black had given Cid in Cosmo Canyon and wasn't sure if he should be glad they hadn't run across a gold yet.

Rude shrugged, tightening his gloves and flexing his fingers. Remarkably, he didn't feel fatigued in the slightest, despite having cast something strong enough to be an Ice 4, if there were truly such a magical attack.

"Maybe they are self-reproducing," he commented. "We know for certain that they are evolving."

The scarlet-haired man sighed again, aquamarine gaze darting to the sky where he immediately noticed the fading sunlight. "It's dusk, yo," he said, running a hand through his damp and sweaty hair. "Most everyone's either home or gettin' drunk."

The other Turk lowered his gaze and peered at Reno over his sunglasses. "One last round of the bars then?" he questioned.

Reno nodded. "Yeah, then I have to get home, yo." He idly tapped the Electro Rod against his right shoulder.

Rude agreed, understanding him completely, and he turned his gaze back towards the darkened and empty streets before them. "We're supposed to have dinner with Elmyra and Barret tonight. Of course, Aeris will be there as well."

Reno made a face, one that implied the somewhat ongoing feud he was having with Barret, but Rude still wasn't certain what that was about. "You do live there, yo."

The dark-skinned man made a neutral sound in his throat, not really replying verbally. Still, after being partner with Reno for so many years, he knew that the younger man could understand him just as easily as if he had spoken aloud. The redhead would certainly interpret his wordless grunt as an affirmative.

The two Turks reached a crossroads and turned towards the seedier section of Midgar where they knew most of the bars were located. As it was, these establishments were notorious for anonymity. The patrons went to disappear and not be found, obviously trying to hide. The only truth that mattered was gil, and if someone had it, then they would be left alone. Names weren't important, and neither were secrets. What happened in the slums, stayed in the slums so to speak. And considering the events recently, Rude had a feeling that they might just see someone they knew, so he made it a point to stop by there before they turned in for the night.

The darkness was quickly creeping in around them, barely pierced by the dim lights of the streetlamps, and a light wind seemed to pick up the trash in the street and swirl it around. The slums were certainly a dismal place, and Rude forcefully pushed away all thoughts of his partner ever having lived there. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like or what had made Reno into such a strong person.

As they walked, Reno blathered on, the younger Turk hating the sound of silence. Rude had come to learn that about him, not that it mattered if he actually responded. The redhead was just content to know that Rude was at least listening to him.

"You notice how weird Reeve's been acting lately, yo?" the other man questioned, momentarily breaking into Rude's silent thoughts. The bald Turk inclined his head in the red-haired male's direction but didn't respond. It wasn't necessary, but he did make sure he was paying attention to whatever the younger man was currently babbling on about.

Reno continued, unabated, "I think I everything is getting to him. He's been distracted and kinda broody in a Valentine sorta way, know what I mean?"

Rude made an affirmative sound in his throat. He had noticed but decided that they would sort it out on their own. Reno and Reeve were notorious for having small fights and quickly making up.

"So… how's Shera?" Reno asked unexpectedly.

"Fine," inserted the bald man, thoughts of his wife warming his heart, even as he looked at his partner over his sunglasses.

The scarlet-haired man nodded. "Ah, so the baby's fine?"

"Doctor called. Everything's well," Rude replied, casually darting his gaze into the nearest darkened alley. He detected nothing moving, however, and directed his gaze back to the path in front of him, idly noting out of the corner of his eye that his partner had started tapping his weapon on his shoulder.

Reno grinned. "Have you picked out a name, yet?" There was a brief pause before he went on, "Can't agree, huh? I kinda like Dominic, yo."

This comment caused Rude to pause in his almost silent listening, shifting his gaze so that he looked directly at his red-haired partner in confusion. Reno lifted up his hands and shook his head.

"Not that I've been considering names or anything. Elena made me look through those damn baby books with her."

The dark-skinned Turk raised a brow. "Reeve hasn't said anything about kids?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could respond in his usual silent way. Sometimes, it was just simpler not to speak.

Reno appeared deep in thought as he frowned, considering the other man's question. He opened his mouth to reply when his sharp eyes latched onto what seemed to be most familiar fluttering, black hair. His eyebrows instantly furrowed in worry and slight aggravation.

"Is that Tseng, yo?"

Immediately, Rude looked up, instantly spying what his partner had referred to. "Dammit, not again," the bald Turk cursed under his breath as he idly adjusted his sunglasses. He bit back a growl and shook his head. Wordlessly, the partners exchanged glances.

As they had unfortunately suspected, they were right in coming here, and an unhappy look took over the paler male's face. "Shall we?" he asked with an exasperated sigh.

Rude grunted in response as Reno tapped his Electro Rod on his shoulder again, the movement more jerky and arrhythmic. They waited a moment before going inside the bar, unfortunately named The Cock's Walk. At the familiar look they were given, everyone knew how a Turk dressed, the two were immediately granted entrance by the bouncer. But the moment they walked in the door, the smell of rotten beer and piss greeted them along with the heavy stench of stale sex. The air was thick with smoke of dubious origins and raucous laughter could even be heard over the country-sounding band crooning in scratchy voices on the stage at the far end of the room.

It was packed, the dance floor filled with two types of people: emaciated druggies or overfed gluttons that twisted and writhed to a beat only they could hear. People were already latched onto each other, some making out in corners that were not quite dark enough to hide their actions. The bar was crowded as well, all types of humans yelling out their drink orders and spending what little gil they earned on getting wasted for the night, only to wake up in the morning and start the whole suicidal process all over again. After all, there was usually very little escape for those that lived in the slums.

Reno had been lucky.

After a moment of searching the crowds, the two finally spotted their quarry. Tseng was at the bar, some ill-formed stranger already attached to his side. Around him, their Commander was already being eyed by several other drunken men, who were just waiting to get their chance.

Rude was the first to spot him, softly touching Reno's shoulder and gesturing in the direction of the bar. The other man followed his gaze before shaking his head, shoulders tightening unconsciously. Rude was thinking the same thing. Tseng shouldn't be doing this again.

As one, the two Turks made their way through the crowd, idly noticing that they were getting some of their own appreciative glances. Unlike many in this Kamiforsaken bar, they were clean, obviously well-educated, and just by looks, most knew they had money. Some of the deadened gazes around them reflected a voracity that slightly perturbed the steadfast Rude, but he kept his eyes on their destination. Minutes later found them standing behind Tseng, silently observing and catching the tail end of their conversation.

"--I ne'er had one of yer kind 'for," drawled the obviously inebriated stranger, making a bold move at running a hand down the Wutaiian's arm, but Tseng made no attempt to brush him off. "Hear ya love sumthin' hard 'n hot up ya ass," the man went on, grinning and revealing a set of teeth in bad need of a dentist.

Reno shook his head, distaste plainly written on his face. He hated these places, and he especially hated having to drag his boss from them. And as they approached, he spoke out of the corner of his mouth to his partner.

"The punk's mildly attractive, but he seems to have only one working brain cell, if any at all. Surely, Tseng isn't that desperate, yo." He noticed another brave touch by the man and frowned deeply. It almost appeared as if Tseng was actually considering the loser's offer, which caused the redhead to involuntarily shudder. "I'd offer first if he's that desperate. I think Reeve would understand."

"He'd probably offer the same," Rude responded, face managing to remain impassive, though inwardly he was cringing. "Hell, I would, and I'm straight," he added, knowing that it was true. He would rather test his sensibilities than see Tseng subject himself to the attentions of that… thing.

Reno sighed, and as one, the both of them moved directly behind their friend, crowding in on his space. Almost immediately, their Commander realized they were there. His shoulders stiffened, and he made an irritated face, looking much like the kid who had gotten his hand caught in a cookie jar. Yet, he remained silent, idly thumbing the dirty glass of liquor that sat near one of his hands on the bar.

Unfortunately, Mr. One-Brain-Cell seemed to notice as well, and he turned, scowling in an attempt to be rid of their sudden shadows. "Get lost!" he snarled. "Ain't you see that we talkin' o'er here?"

Reno was not impressed. He tapped the loser on the shoulder with his Electro Rod firmly and gestured with his head towards Tseng. "He's with us."

The man glanced drunkenly from Rude to Reno, noticing the greater height of the bald man and the formidable weapon of the redhead. He gulped loudly.

"Whatever," he murmured before sliding away from Tseng and slinking away. He thought the Wutaiian was cute but definitely not worth the trouble.

The two partners turned their whole attention on their boss, noticing that the other patrons had chosen to look away as well. It seemed no one was considering the Wutaiian any longer. Tseng had yet to face them, however, his gaze towards the bar as he sat on the stool.

"Go away," came his low and icy demand.

Rude shook his head. "No, we can't do that."

The red-haired Turk nodded, adding to Rude's statement, his tone almost chastising, "You promised you wouldn't do this anymore. Don't make us have to cause a scene." As it was, the bartender was already eying the three of them; worried about the mess he might have to clean up.

Tseng exhaled, frozen in place for a moment as he considered his options. There were actually very few. He gritted his teeth, narrowed his eyes, but finally slid off the stool. Without a word, he strode towards the door, expecting the two would follow him. Once outside and in the relatively fresher air, Tseng quickly crossed the street into a less crowded area on the opposite side. Rude and Reno were right on his heels, both with grim expressions.

He raised a brow at them before shaking his head and turning away. "All right," he snapped. "Now that you've dragged me out, I'm going home." He didn't expect them to argue.

However, Rude shook his head negatively; he didn't like the look on Tseng's face or the almost desperation he had caught back there. "No, you're coming home with me." It was a spur of the moment plan, but he was determined to go through with it.

Again, a brow arched elegantly. "Don't you trust me?" the Wutaiian questioned, half turning to face them once more. It was a strange, almost twisted situation; the two subordinates giving orders to their boss.

Reno snorted. "Didn't you trust us enough to say something about the voices, yo?" he retorted, almost angrily. It appeared that the redhead was still hurt about that little tidbit. He had thought they were closer than that.

Tseng shook his head and waved a hand of dismissal, effectively attempting to brush off him and his words. "I don't have to listen to this. I am your Commander."

The bald man grunted, narrowing his eyes, though Tseng couldn't see the movement. "Right now you're our friend," he stated firmly before eying the dark-haired male. "You can't keep doing this."

The Wutaiian snorted, a distinctively inelegant thing as he angrily glared at Rude. He strode towards the taller man, standing directly before him and raising himself to his toes so that he could look Rude in the eyes. It was an attempt at intimidation that failed miserably.

"I can do whatever the hell I want."

Reno scoffed. "You know when you do that, it's not very intimidating," he commented, still continuously tapping the Electro Rod against his shoulder, as if it was a nervous twitch.

Furious silver eyes turned in the redhead's direction, which caused Reno to take an unconscious step backwards from the sheer venom held there. He held up his hands as if to ward off a blow.

"We're just saying," he protested.

Rude reached out to put a calming hand on his boss' shoulder, but the Wutaiian sidestepped before he could do so, an unreadable expression on his face. "Are you coming with me, or are we going to have to use force," the taller male questioned with a sigh.

Tseng frowned, staring at a nonexistent object but refusing to look at either of them. He was clearly contemplating Rude's question. The dark-skinned man could practically see him weighing his options. Knowing their boss, Tseng was comparing how quickly he could run versus how fast they could move. Rude had almost a foot on him in height and most definitely more weight. Nor would the Turk Commander appreciate having to be tackled to the street by Reno with witnesses around. It would not be dignified.

Resignation took over the Wutaiian's features, quickly replaced by frustration. Tseng exhaled heavily, brushed a lock of hair off his shoulder in an irritated gesture, and scowled the entire time. Having been in his command for a length of time, Rude had long learned that this movement represented the man's capitulation.

The two partners exchanged glances over the head of their shorter Commander, and the three started to move in silent agreement towards the Strife household. Aeris and Cloud had been so kind to allow Shera and Rude to live with them being as their true home was miles away in Rocket Town.

There was a tense silence between the three Turks, awkward a word almost too light to describe the situation. Tseng was silently seething, and Reno knew better than to try and say anything. Rude himself was just naturally quiet, and as they walked, he recalled why this particular situation was so familiar to him.

Back when he had first become a Turk, he had found out about the habits of their Commander. Tseng shied away from all close relationships, but every once in a while, maybe once a year, he would carouse the bars in the slums and bring home a random man to screw into the mattress… or perhaps to screw him into the mattress. Rude couldn't be certain, and he honestly never wanted to know. Reno had found out about their boss' little habit as well, but at the time, they hadn't felt it was their place to say or do anything.

And until the events at Nibelheim, it really hadn't been a problem. Rude had been away in Rocket Town at the time, but Reno had related the story of Tseng's murderous rampage that night. Afterwards, their Commander had begun to sneak down to the bars once or twice a week. The bald man remembered all too well dragging him out before some random loser finagled to get his hands on the Wutaiian. Still, they had somehow contrived together to get Tseng to eventually stop, and he had quit his carousing for a time. However, when reports of Sephiroth's reappearance surfaced about a year ago, he had started back up again, almost as if he had never ceased. It had been back to the slums for their Commander, and due to the insanity following those events, the other Turks hadn't had the time nor the means to speak to Tseng until after the Meteor crisis had been resolved. Once the world was saved, they had managed to wrangle a promise out of Tseng that he wouldn't do it ever again.

To them it was a self-destructive path. There was something inside their Commander that made him feel that he needed this, the meaningless and random one night stands, to drown himself in liquor. It was like the loss of control was a drug to him. Once upon a time, it hadn't made much sense. Yet, considering what they had learned, Rude felt he was beginning to understand why Tseng desired this and why he was such a damn happy drunk. The liquor had to obscure the voices, make it so he was free for a time.

Regardless, above all things, a drunk Tseng was to be avoided at all costs, or so they had quickly come to learn. While he could at times be amorous, he usually tended to be horrifyingly happy, in a very Yuffie-like manner. It was something Rude did not want to even consider, much less actually see, and it only served to highlight how unhappy Tseng seemed the rest of the time.

Still, even knowing why Tseng was suddenly finding it difficult to cling to his promise, there was no way Rude was going to allow him to revert back to his old habits. It was not healthy, and their friend definitely deserved far better than what he was allowing himself, even if it was his only respite. Rude felt it was something akin to a drug. Sometimes a little intervention was needed.

The bald man looked up from his inner contemplations to find that they had arrived at the Strife household, Tseng already faintly skittish. At an exchanged glance, he and Reno drew closer to their Commander as they headed for the door. Rude was the first to enter, Tseng following him with Reno bringing up the rear, ensuring that the Wutaiian could not escape. The door opened easily, and the three Turks stepped into the foyer just inside.

The sound of children's laughter greeted them instantly, quickly followed by the familiar voice of one Zack Loire. Another far quieter voice answered the former SOLDIER, and although they couldn't discern the owner, there were very few options. Zack rarely went anywhere without his General shadow.

Silvery eyes widened immediately at the sound, and without second thought, Tseng turned around to make his escape, something Rude noticed immediately. Reno, however, stood in the doorway, casually leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed over his chest. He shot the Wutaiian a look and held up a warding hand, which Tseng promptly ignored. He continued to move forward, intent on leaving, but Rude's arm shot out, grabbing their Commander's shoulder in a firm grip and ceasing his retreat.

The red-haired male shook his head. "Uh uh. You're staying."

Tseng glared heatedly at Reno, narrowing his eyes before his face suddenly went completely neutral. The Wutaiian seemed tempted to beg, obviously considering it. His subordinate instantly realized this, and it was a feeling that made him distinctly uncomfortable. He shot Rude a look beyond Tseng, and he was about say something. Yet, before his mouth could even open, he caught sight of Aeris waddling towards them. Apparently, the Ancient had heard the door open and had come to investigate.

Surprise registered on her pretty features as she noticed them. "Rude! You brought the others," she added after a minute, clearly delighted.

Reno waved a hand at her, flashing one of his most charming grins. "Yeah, but I've got to head home. Must go see the hubby, ya know," he commented, slowly backing out of the foyer.

Tseng took a step forward, as if to follow him, but the grip Rude had on his shoulder was unrelenting. The larger Turk squeezed lightly in warning, dragging the dark-haired man to a halt.

Reno shot his Commander an almost amused glance. "But Tseng here wanted some of Elmyra's home cooking."

"Isn't that right," Rude inserted, giving another rough but not quite bruising squeeze to Tseng's shoulder, right on the sensitive region at the juncture of his neck and collar bone.

The Wutaiian clenched his teeth and half turned back towards Aeris and Rude. "Yes."

"So nice seeing ya, Aeris. You're looking well, yo. Goodnight," Reno said in a hurry as he guffawed to himself and completely backed out the door, making sure to shut it solidly behind him.

The flower-girl beamed at Reno's abrupt departure, turning the kind gesture on the Turk Commander. "I'm sure Elmyra won't mind feeding one more. Why don't you come into the living room while we wait for supper? Marlene's here, and she's been asking about you. She just loves her Mr. Tseng." Aeris chuckled to herself at the last bit.

Rude nodded and made a confirming noise in the back of his throat. He sidestepped until he stood behind Tseng, still holding a hand to the Wutaiian's shoulder. The older man was now forced to face Aeris, and Rude wasted no time in putting a hand discreetly on the small of the other Turk's back, goading him forward into following the Ancient. They trailed after her down the hallway, but as she turned into the sitting room to her right, she tossed an idle comment over her shoulder.

"Oh, by the way," the auburn-haired woman inserted mischievously seconds before they crossed the threshold. "Zack and Sephiroth will be joining us."

Silver eyes widened once more as Tseng completely froze, boots digging to a halt against the wooden floor. Rude shook his head with an aggravated motion and gave his friend a shove into the sitting room, perhaps using a bit too much force. As a result, Tseng stumbled inside, ending up standing besides Aeris in a very undignified manner. He gave off the aura of a deer caught in the headlights as Rude entered at a normal pace, a shadow of a smirk on his face.

As one, all those present in the room turned to look at the newcomers. Aeris simply beamed, and Rude was certain that if it was anyone else, Tseng would have twitched. But the Commander was very good at his stone-face and managed to look only slightly perturbed.

Marlene was the first to notice the Turk Commander, immediately jumping to her feet from where she sat next to Barret on the couch. "Mr. Tseng!" the child exclaimed as she darted forward with a huge grin on her face and threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a huge hug.

He awkwardly patted her on the back, looking slightly alarmed. However, before he could say anything, she latched on to his arm and began to drag him quite forcefully in the direction of her toy box. Tseng couldn't help but note that she had quite a grip for being such a young girl, even as his head whirled from her incessant chatter, words pouring out of her mouth so quickly that he couldn't get any of his own in edgewise. Truthfully, she reminded the dark-haired Turk vaguely of Reno.

"Do you want to color?" Marlene questioned excitedly, pointing to all her toys and such. "Let's play Go Fish. Can I play with your hair like I did last time?"

In the background, Rude mouthed to Aeris, "Last time?" But she just shook her head.

Barret's laughter echoed through the room as he took in the flustered appearance of the Turk Commander. Aeris chuckled, while Elmyra and Shera exchanged amused glances. Zack smirked as he slid off the couch where he had been seated next to Sephiroth, whom Denzel had attached himself to. Rude watched the ex-SOLDIER approach him, mildly interested in what he had to say.

The crystalline-eyed man sidled up to him, leaning in so that their conversation couldn't be easily overheard. "Babysitting Tseng?" Zack questioned, teasingly. Rude briefly noticed that Sephiroth and his Commander had glanced at each other but were now distracted by the children. He smiled inwardly at the two before returning his attentions to his companion.

The bald Turk lifted a brow. "Babysitting Sephiroth?" he countered easily.

Before Zack could respond, Marlene's voice cut into their conversation, echoing loudly over the others in the room. "How about a tea party," the young girl suggested, obviously delighted to see her "Mr. Tseng" once more.

Elmyra laughed at this. "Oh, no, not the illustrious tea parties," she chimed in, shooting her daughter a glance. The Wutaiian shook his head silently, his right eye beginning to twitch in a most familiar way.

Aeris giggled as she observed the slightly embarrassed tint to Tseng's cheeks. "Don't you remember how much fun we used to have when you and I would have them?" she questioned the Turk, even as his face went stony, the other eye twitching.

"When you would force him to do it," Elmyra commented, rising from her seat. "I'm going to check on dinner." She headed off towards the kitchen, a laughing Barret tagging along. He, at least, was thoroughly enjoying watching the Turk Commander getting increasingly flustered.

Rude couldn't help but exchange a look with the naughty flower-girl, a full smile on his usually impassive face. He mentally filed away the information about the "hair braiding" and the "tea parties" as something to tell Reno about later. He was certain that the scarlet-haired man would find them particularly amusing.

Shera chuckled as she rose to her feet, immediately attracting Rude's attention. "I'll be back," she explained with a light wave, heading towards the hall. He nodded in understanding. She was probably heading towards the restroom, her pregnancy significantly affecting all of her systems.

For a moment, everything was calm, the mild laughter quieting as the children continued to distract their unfortunate adult friends. Denzel was softly chatting with a somewhat attentive Sephiroth, and Marlene had indeed involved poor Tseng in a tea party, the Turk sitting there looking mildly strained and rather mortified.

Zack leaned in towards Rude once more, trying to keep his voice quiet as an impish tone settled into his voice. "Did you know we were here?" he inquired. "Is this part of some plan?"

"What are you talking about?" Aeris interjected, giving them both confused looks. Apparently, she had overheard Zack despite his efforts.

The spiky-haired man grinned. "Sephy and Mr. Tseng have little crushes on one another." He paused, considering the statement. "Well, more like they are totally hot for each other.

Immediately, the flower-girl emitted an almost diabolical laugh. "Really?" she asked, and for a moment, Rude was slightly frightened by the literal cogs he could see turning in her head. He almost pitied Tseng then, knowing for certain that Aeris was now going to conspire against him… almost.

He nodded in response. "Yes, and I'm sure Elena has already latched on to this."

Aeris chuckled again, a slightly frightening sound. Her quick "mom" eyes snapped to the two other men, noticing that they were currently shooting surreptitious glances at each other, all but ogling one another in an oh-so-obvious way. They kept sneaking occasional glances. However, that was only until they managed to catch each other, which caused both full grown men to quickly look away, as if nothing had happened, faint blushes staining their cheeks.

She snorted in amusement. "They're like teenagers," Aeris cackled deviously. "They are adults, and they can't even look at each other."

Zack shrugged. "Well, for one, Seph is shy."

Rude blinked, not believing the dark-haired man for an instant. Aeris didn't seem convinced either, shooting him a skeptical look.

"He is," insisted the former SOLDIER, waving his hands for emphasis. "He just covers it up well. Would you have good social skills if you were raised by Hojo?"

Before either of them could answer the loaded question, the sound of the front door opening could clearly be heard. It was actually more like the door slammed open, the edge hitting the opposite wall. Booted feet clomped noisily in as the door shut with a bang. Seconds later, Cloud stumbled into the living room, looking both exhausted and clumsy. It took him a moment, but he finally seemed to notice that there were a lot of people in his home. He couldn't help but gape in surprise.

"Aeris?" he questioned in shock as he directed a confused glance to his wife. "Are… are we having a party?" He racked his brain as he rubbed a hand through his hair, trying to remember if she had already mentioned it. His eyes traveled from Sephiroth to Tseng to Zack and back again, still entirely uncertain.

The Ancient laughed. "No, sweet heart, we're just that popular tonight," she explained, shooting a meaningful look to both Rude and Zack, one full of mischief. For a moment, it almost had the Turk pitying his friend again. However, it was then that she noticed Shera coming back from the restroom and immediately latched onto her new friend's arm. "I'm going to go help mom in the kitchen," Aeris announced with a wink towards Rude. "Why don't you come help me, Shera?"

For a second, the brunette was confused. However, she quickly caught the devilish glint in Aeris' eye. Despite not knowing why the flower-girl was so devious, she was perfectly willing to go along. Whilst Elena and Aeris were accomplices, it had been Shera who was guilty of aiding and abetting.

"Of course," the engineer agreed brightly. With that, the two women disappeared into the kitchen, leaving a slightly bewildered Cloud behind.

Rude, who had not moved from his position since he had entered the house, bit back a sigh and directed his attention to the sitting room, noticing immediately that Cloud looked lost. For a moment, he almost believed that the blond had peeked behind a couch, as if searching for something. His mako eyes were peering about, confusion plainly obvious. Rude wasn't about to comment, but that didn't stop Zack from saying anything.

The dark-haired man grinned. "Looking for something, Spike?" he chirped.

Cloud looked up from his perusing of the window, still very much lost. "Reno and Elena aren't here?" He frowned.

The crystalline-eyed man laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Is this supposed to be a Turk reunion?" he queried with a shrug. "It's not much of one without the gunslinger." He was, of course, referring to Vincent, but very few of them actually got the reference, the somewhat clueless Cloud not included.

The blond pursed his lips in thought before suddenly blinking, seeming for the first time to notice just exactly what Tseng was doing. He peered at the Wutaiian Commander, unsure if he was seeing correctly. Mako eyes blinked again before Cloud looked up in confusion at his friend.

"Is that Tseng… having… a tea party?" he questioned, clearly wondering why the former assassin was doing such a thing.

Before anyone could respond and therefore also stopping Zack's mirthful laughter before it could begin, Elmyra's voice echoed from the dining room, ringing much like a bell. "Dinner!"

Like a heard of starving bovine, everyone leapt to their feet and headed towards the dining room. The children, more excited than the adults, latched on to their respective friends and pulled them towards the table, as if the food was suddenly going to disappear on its own. As a result, Sephiroth and Tseng were nearly involved in a head-on collision, almost trying to squeeze through the doorway at the same time.

Ahead of them, Rude had been the first to enter, having been the one standing closest to the dining room. Four seats were already full, Barret and Elmyra having taken the two heads of the three tables pushed together to accommodate them all. The food had already been laid out and was steaming nicely, the rich smell of home cooking filling the air. Rude immediately caught his wife's look and sat between her and Barret, knowing that in some fashion, she and Aeris had conspired. Woe be unto him if he should somehow deviate from their plans, even if it was unintentional.

Cloud managed to elbow his way past Zack and moved to plop himself down between his wife and Elmyra, but she quickly waved him on to the empty seat on the other side of her. Zack paused for a second by the door, attempting to decide where to sit. However, Aeris quickly came to his rescue, mouthing "Sit here" and pointing to the chair the blond had just attempted to take. He did so, seating himself just as the last four people entered the room.

Marlene bullied Denzel out of the way, dragging Tseng through the door first with an iron grip. It was amazing how truly strong the child was, especially to Tseng.

"Where should I sit, Daddy?" she questioned happily, beaming brightly. It had been a long time since she had truly had time to hang out with her "Mr. Tseng", the two of them having become close when he had been injured and Elmyra and Marlene had cared for him in Kalm.

Shera inserted hastily, "Why don't you sit next to your father."

The little girl nodded and did so at the same moment that Denzel came in, Sephiroth right behind him. They entered in a more dignified manner, the boy not needing to drag on his savior's arm but somehow managing to tether the older male nevertheless.

"Denzel, honey, you come sit next to me," Elmyra put in swiftly. The child obeyed and immediately plopped down before any more words could be said. This left the unfortunate former General and Turk Commander the only chairs remaining, right next to each other and sandwiched between the kids. It was a set up, of course, and a brilliantly laid plan at that. Or at least, Rude thought so.

He watched in idle fascination as the two grown men paused, not moving, as if frozen to their spots. Realization washed over Tseng's face as he shot his subordinate an odd look. Yet, neither of them moved. The same expression was echoed on Sephiroth's face and directed candidly at his best friend. Shera and Aeris merely smirked; infinitely proud of themselves, whereas Cloud was confused as to why the pair hadn't sat down yet.

"C'mon, Sephy," Denzel encouraged quietly, gently tugging on the older male's shirt. "You can sit next to me."

"Yeah," Marlene chimed in, grinning widely at her friend. "There's room here, Mr. Tseng." In the face of such innocence, the two could do nothing but nod their heads and take their seats, albeit a bit stiffly and as far away from each other as humanly possible.

A moment later, the table was calm as silence fell. As one, everyone bowed their heads, only Sephiroth left looking mildly confused. Was there some ritual he knew nothing about? Small hands tugged at his shirt, and he looked down to see Denzel smiling lightly at him from beneath brown bangs.

"Like this, Sephy," the child encouraged in a loud whisper, lowering his head in explanation and putting a very serious look on his face. Sephiroth blinked but humored him, copying the motion. It wasn't until Aeris started speaking in her soft voice that Sephiroth even realized what was occurring. They were praying… over their meal. No wonder he hadn't understood it. To Hojo, that would have been a trivial motion at best.

The prayer was brief but wholehearted. Afterwards, heads were raised and dinner was set to begin. At the head of the table, considering himself in charge since he was older than Cloud, Barret picked up the first dish, frowning when he realized it was a plate of cheesy mashed potatoes. He glared at the food with intent distaste, decided he didn't want any, and quickly passed it to Rude on his right (1). In this manner, the food was slowly served.

For a moment, there was silence until the Ancient smiled, eager to begin conversation. "So, how was everyone's day?" she questioned pleasantly, spooning some of the potatoes onto her plate. She tended to have cravings for starchy foods.

At first, no one seemed to want to offer a comment. Tseng stared at the table, firmly keeping his mouth shut, not wishing at all to relate where he had just been. Rude made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, silently thanking Kami that Reno had gone home.

Cloud was the one to pick up the conversation, shrugging nonchalantly. "The usual," he replied, inspiring them all with his witty words.

"I helped Elena with choosing decorations for Reeve and Reno's wedding this afternoon," Shera chimed in a moment, thereby saving them all from an awkward silence.

"That's right, mom," Aeris commented, her eyes gleaming, as if suddenly struck with an idea. "Weren't we going to have your wedding at the same time?" She stoically ignored Barret's embarrassed stuttering.

The older, more gentile woman inclined her head. "Yes, I believe it was Elena that came up with the idea." Forks clinked on plates as more food was passed around, the sound of idle chewing a background din to the strange dinner party.

Zack snorted, reaching for his glass of water and silently wishing he had something more filling, like Tequila for instance. So long as Sephiroth didn't have any, everything would be fine.

"Pssh," he muttered. "Weddings are for girls."

Aeris sniffed, turning to stare at him. "You're still coming though, right?" she questioned. "You know you'll need a date."

The dark-haired male smirked and waved a hand of dismissal. "Maybe I already have one," he hinted.

Elmyra smiled slightly at this, turning her innocent gaze on the Wutaiian Commander. "Tseng, I know you somehow wrangled your way out of being best man for Reeve, but I know you're still coming. You have to bring a date as well."

Tseng blinked, silvery eyes paused for a moment, trying to come up with a good lie but completely drawing a blank. He had been caught off guard by her straightforward question. Thankfully, he was saved by Aeris… though in a moment he might not consider it something to be grateful for.

"You're coming too, aren't you, Sephiroth?"

The former General spooned some Mimett greens onto his plate, looking up with mild surprise registering in his eyes. "I'm invited?" he returned, unable to keep the shock from his voice. He wasn't aware that they had wanted to include him in such a fashion, believing that they were merely tolerating his presence until the battle was done.

Barret opened his mouth to make a snotty comment, but before he could do so, a foot kicked him under the table, solidly connecting with his shin. He narrowed his eyes, trying to discern who had done it. His soon-to-be wife was on the other end of the table, after all. Still, he was effectively cut off from the retort he had about to say.

"Of course you are," Shera insisted softly, giving him one of her kinder smiles. "You're part of our family now."

The gun-armed man snorted. "Though whether or not that's a good thing, I can't really say," he muttered under his breath, only to yelp when another violent kick assailed his already bruised shins.

"Is everything alright, panda bear?" his soon-to-be wife inquired, eyes turning to him in concern. At her words, Zack started snickering loudly, amused by Barret's pet name. Cloud laughed as well, unfortunately forgetting that he was currently eating at the same time. He started to choke, prompting his friend to beat him firmly across the back.

Barret gritted his teeth. "Just fine," he choked out, eyes slightly watering.

"You'll need a date, Sephiroth," Aeris went on, easily asserting herself over the chaos that was beginning to build

As her words echoed around them, Rude looked across the table and caught sight of Marlene seeming in very deep thought. It was almost like wheels were turning in the little girl's head as she looked thoughtfully at her companion. Shera shifted beside him, and he sensed that his wife was about to say something. However, he laid a discreet hand on her thigh and squeezed gently, inclining his head towards Marlene. At the same moment, the child seemed to come to a sudden realization.

She beamed brightly, exclaiming loudly, "Why don't Sephy and Mr. Tseng just go together, like Mr. Cid and Mr. Vinny?"

It was as if a Stop materia had been used, the entire table freezing, including Cloud with his spoon paused halfway to his mouth. Zack's face was hidden by his cup, but Rude could tell that the man was laughing. He began to feel mildly sorry for Tseng, who resembled someone facing imminent death or torture, and again thanked Kami that both Reno and Elena were at their own homes rather than here, further embarrassing their almost shy Commander.

Completely oblivious to the frozen state of all the adults, Denzel couldn't help but comment in a quiet voice, "That's a good idea."

Marlene nodded enthusiastically, turning with beaming eyes towards the Wutaiian. "So what do you think, Mr. Tseng? Huh? Huh?" she pressed, barely giving him time to respond.

The Commander shifted in his seat in a very uncharacteristic gesture, taking a deep breath as he faced the excited child, racking his brain to come up with a suitable response. "I think, Marlene, that Mr. Sephiroth--" He paused, flushing slightly as he realized how he had just addressed the great General. "That Sephiroth probably…" He hesitated again, not knowing what excuse he could say. "He probably has someone else in mind," the Turk clarified, having spoken the entire statement very slowly.

Before the former General could even open his mouth, Zack clunked his drink down on the table, grinning widely. "No, he doesn't," the spiky-haired male remarked.

Denzel nudged the man next to him, speaking in a more subdued tone than his fervent friend. "Well, Sephy, what do you say?"

The General was at a loss for words, not even able to form a coherent sentence as his mouth opened, closed, and then opened again, still nothing emerging. He shot Zack a glare that was partially one promising death and partially pleading for help.

Deciding that they had tortured the somewhat self-conscious man enough for one night, Zack came to his pal's rescue. He shrugged and looked directly at the children, a grin creeping into the corners of his mouth.

"I'm sure Sephy and Mr. Tseng will have a lot of fun when they go together."

Marlene cheered, despite the stern glance her father sent her. "Yay! You can sit next to us!" Her declaration was followed by Barret clearing his throat and everyone attempting to return to their meal.

"So when is the wedding again?" Cloud asked, unintentionally relieving the uncomfortable silence.

"Saturday," Shera explained, squeezing her husband's hand underneath the table. "It's at Elmyra's house in Sector 5, if you remember."

The blond shrugged. "I didn't… but thanks."

"I would have reminded him," Aeris insisted, smiling cheekily. It appeared that everyone was finally giving the two men a respite, allowing Sephiroth and Tseng to let out their held back breaths.

The conversation easily flowed around him, but Rude didn't seem to mind. He casually looked up from his plate, just happening to catch a humorous and yet pitiful event from behind his sunglasses, which he hadn't even removed for dinner. They were all used to seeing him with them on anyways. Not to mention that they hid the fact he was all but staring at his boss, but it wasn't like the usually observant man noticed. He was too busy trying not to touch or even look at the person sitting next to him, an action that had Rude shaking his head sadly. Sephiroth and Tseng, with their almost teenager-like actions, were similar to watching a train wreck. He didn't want to see it, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

The former General accepted a plate from Elmyra, took one glance at the food, and decided he wasn't partial to biscuits. As a result, he passed it on to the next person, Tseng. But as it were, the Turk Commander was paying very little attention to where he was reaching, and their hands briefly touched beneath the dish. For a second, they turned to look at each other, a faint flush staining both sets of cheeks until they quickly looked away, Tseng now having a firm grasp on the plate.

Rude sighed under his breath afterwards and dejectedly shook his head. "Hopeless," he murmured. "They're completely hopeless."

---

(1) If you read Forgotten Chronicles of Wutai, you'd understand the importance of this! I'm not going to explain it, lol.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. Be on the lookout for Shattered Ice Redux, it's been updated, too. Every chapter has been completely rewritten and includes at least one new scene or conversation. Expect brand new chapters and if I can squeeze it in, more of the smut we all know and love. Of course, I would appreciate reviews on it as well, to see if my alterations have made it better or worse. Thanks everyone!


	51. Broken Mask

I know it's a bit later than usual but I'm probably going to be alternating SI Redux postings with this. So check that out while waiting. I assure you it will be quite worth it!

Warning: A roller coaster ride of emotions, going from ANGST to WAFF, so be prepared. Oh, and more of that M/M sex that every one seems to be so fond of.

Listened to "And Forever" from Big O and "You're Not Alone" from Escaflowne, as I wrote this. Made me want to cry. sniff

Thanks!

**Chapter 51: Broken Mask**

The steady continuous drone of the ringing was really beginning to worry him. Every time he dialed, his heart leapt in his throat and his body shook with nerves. But he received no answer, not even the machine picked up, even after two days. Frankly, Reeve was getting more than worried. Instead, something akin to fear was settling in him. Ever since Reno's disappearance, he had become fiercely protective of anyone that held a special place in his heart.

His family was no different.

And for the past few days, he had yet to contact any of them, not since the minor demonic attack on Costa del Sol. Nor had they been willing to listen to his warnings. He couldn't be sure whether they were simply avoiding his calls, or something had happened to them. He was certain that Reis, his younger sister, would have answered… unless she was being prevented from doing so.

All in all, it left him in a constant state of distress. With another sigh, Reeve hung up his home phone and sat back in his cushy couch, sinking wearily into the fabric. Reno had yet to come home, but he was certain the Turk would return soon enough.

It was partially because of his relationship with Reno that his parents and he had been slowly drifting apart. Of the wealthy Costa del Sol high class, his mother and father, both doctors, didn't approve of his relationship with the redhead. They considered it just a phase. He hadn't been able to tell them the truth… that he had been with Reno for more than five years. They thought it had begun after the Meteor incident and were just waiting for him to get back on track and get over "Rico." They could never remember Reno's name, a fact that irked him terribly.

His parents already disliked the fact that he didn't follow in their footsteps, choosing architecture over medicine, and they thoroughly hated his decision to work for ShinRa. Joining the Intelligence section of the army and later working his way up to the Board of Directors hadn't impressed them either. Still, he was still their first born son, and only male child at that, so they let his association with ShinRa slide. And things had been fine.

Until he had met Reno.

The only one he had been brave enough to speak the truth to was his sister. Reis was ten years younger but much more receptive. She accepted his attraction for Reno, even going so far as to say that she thought they were perfect for each other. Reis thought Reno to be the coolest person she had ever met… her words exactly. Truthfully, his younger sister was the only one who had met the Turk before the faithful "Reno meets the Family" episode about three weeks prior before their argument over the wedding, which Reeve suspected was much related to that event.

His parents thought of homosexuality as a sin, as being completely unnatural, but they hinged on listening to him because he was their only son. However, Reno was not only a man, but he was also from the slums of Midgar. Reno was not of their "kind" of people and way below what they considered proper for their son. He was uncouth, rough, worked for ShinRa, and had a foul mouth. He had never even met his mother, though he was certain she was a prostitute and most likely now deceased. He spoke his mind, and above all things, he was a Turk. Even if Reno had been a female, Reeve was certain they wouldn't have accepted him.

When he had taken his lover to meet his family at their huge home in Costa del Sol, which was truthfully right up the street from Cid's family, things had not gone well. His mother and father had been skeptical, despite Reis' urgings, and Reno hadn't made it any easier. It wasn't long before his lover and his mother had gotten into a shouting match over his "homo-ness", his status, his job… everything. Reno, not the type to sit quietly while someone insulted him, had quickly responded in his typical vulgar and loud way. It had not been pretty.

It was unnatural; it was wrong. Two men could not possibly love each other, could not possibly even be serious. Both parents had had loud outcries, the people he loved most staring each other down and causing his heart to break into fractured pieces. It was painful, gut-wrenching, and he could do nothing but sit and gape. If it hadn't been for Reis, Reeve was certain there may have been bloodshed. Thank Kami for her, the only sensible one of their aristocratic family.

His mother had gone so far as to strike a low blow. She had whispered in his ear, using low tones that a fuming Reno couldn't hear. She told him that since he was gay that their dreams for grandchildren and his own desire for having kids were shattered, just dust in the wind.

"_I can't believe it," _she had said in his ear. _"You cannot even adopt. No one in their right mind would give two queers a child. Everyone knows that gay men are pedophiles." _

At the time, he had brushed her off, shaking his head at her hurtful words and left soon after, a fuming Reno preceding him. Still, it had been plainly obvious at that moment that they would never accept him or the decisions of his heart. Since then, a small rift had begun to build. They still spoke, but there was a bead of tension, a quietness in the topic that was never brought up. And always, they never spoke Reno's name… unless it was to call him by the wrong one: "Rico", "Rass", "Rollo"… crazy names that didn't even make sense. It was as if they were telling him how little they thought of his choice for a mate.

They had wanted him to marry a professional woman, someone intelligent and well-educated. Being the eldest and only son, they expected much from him: genius grandchildren, a great legacy, a name of which to be proud. Yet, it seemed he had failed them in many ways, becoming the "different" one of the Tuesti clan.

With a sigh, Reeve thrust himself up from the couch and started to pace the living room, a strange sort of restlessness infecting his thought patterns. It always seemed to be that way when he started worrying about his family and Reno… about what was right and what wasn't. That had been the biggest hurtle for him, following the prescribed path of his parents or becoming his own person. Joining ShinRa had been his first step towards independence, and choosing architecture over medicine had been the first individual choice he had ever made.

Even Reis had gone into the family business. At the present moment, she was an intern in Costa del Sol.

It was odd to think of himself as the "black sheep" of the family, but truthfully, he was. He turned from medicine. He preferred to live in an apartment in Midgar. He fell in love with another man…

He shook his head. Only Reis understood. Of their entire family: cousins, aunts, uncles included, his sister was alone in supporting his decision. He loved her dearly, and they were close, despite the age difference. If not for her, he would have probably already been completely ostracized from their family. But Reis acted as a go-between, soothing ruffled feathers and managing somehow to keep them all together. It was a rough burden for the young woman, but she seemed to manage it with a smile. She was such a strong girl.

The pacing grew old rather quickly, and Reeve found himself ending it at the window, plopping down gracelessly onto the pillow of the window seat. He stared out at the disheartening view of the slowly dying city, feeling again that familiar depression creeping in on him again. Only this time, he didn't have it in him to block it or even push it away. He let the melancholy seep into his heart.

His mother was right in some ways, even if she had used that coarse method against him. His entire life he had always wanted children. He loved them; they were so innocent and encouraging. He wanted to be a father, to impress his wisdom on the next generation, to be the hero of someone, to feel that unconditional love. But with Reno as his partner, he didn't know if he would ever get to experience that. Taking care of Denzel and Marlene for only two hours had been bittersweet, and it had only reminded him of a joy he would never get to know.

That feeling, that intense weight on his chest, that all-encompassing dragging of his spirit became heavier. And he found himself succumbing without another thought. He wanted… no, needed, someone to understand. He needed to let it out before he broke apart. It was tearing him, clawing at his insides and prickling at the back of his eyes. When had things become so damn complicated?

He had only wanted to warn them, tell his family of the recent demon attacks. Yet, they had brushed him off, cutting the conversation short. Even Reis, who he was certain would have listened, had been unable to come to the phone. And now, unable to get in contact them, he had nothing to do but worry and fret. Guilt settled on him like a heavy blanket. If anything happened to them before amends could be made… he had only himself to blame.

A hand came up, pressed itself to the cool glass, as if reaching for an unattainable freedom. Perhaps in that one instance Reeve could sympathize with Balaam. Not all chains were visible, not all jail cells concrete. He teetered on the edge, heart torn in two, and Reeve was unable to find the glue that would mend it whole again.

He sighed, slumping against the window. He just… There was only so much strength; he was but one man. He just couldn't do this anymore.

-- --

Reno sighed as he rubbed the back of his sore neck, idly twisting and turning his head. It had been a long fucking day, and he was more than tired, ready to just crawl into bed next to Reeve and pass out. Perhaps he would sleep for the next two days, if he was lucky.

His booted feet clomped on the thick carpet beneath him as he walked down the hall towards their door, number seven on the eighth floor. It was very nearly the Penthouse, which his lover had refused to even consider. Still, it was nice… expensive living that suited Reeve more than Reno, but the Turk wasn't about to give it up. Hell no. He had lived in the slums for far too long to not appreciate it.

After dealing with Tseng and that resulting argument, Reno was just weary, his emotions on a thin edge and his strength stretched thin. As he arrived at the door, putting his key into the lock, he felt a large yawn attack him. The door thankfully clicked open on the first try, and he was admitted into his strangely quiet home. He didn't think anything of it however, shutting the door behind him as he shrugged off his suit jacket and attempted to hang it on the hook near the door. It missed as usual, but he would get it later.

"I'm home, yo!" he called out, wondering if Reeve was already there. This was accompanied by a sleepy noise, but he wasn't quite sure how to label it. He felt out of sorts, brain seemingly connected to a balloon, and his body infinitely tired. He received no response to his call, but that did not deter him, heading first for the living room. As he moved into it from the hall, the redhead stepped over the threshold and promptly stumbled, falling forward in surprise. A curse escaped from his lips. Apparently, he was far more exhausted than he had originally thought. He grabbed the doorjamb to steady himself, Reeve's voice causing him to look up.

"Oh, so very graceful," the President commented rather snarkily. There was something strange to his tone… almost resigned, flat. Reno wasn't sure that he liked it.

In any case, he was in no mood for jokes and just shot him a look, one that explicitly said, "I'm tired, I'm going to bed." They had been together long enough, so words were often unnecessary. He shook off the strange timbre to Reeve's voice and moved back towards the hall, intending to disappear into the bedroom.

"Oh, so you're not talking to me now." The executive's voice carried easily over the length of the room causing Reno to pause in his movements. He frowned slightly and turned back, finding that Reeve had stood up from the window seat and was moving towards him. It was almost as if he was intentionally picking a fight, and for the life of him, the Turk could not understand why.

He shook his head and sighed. "Look, yo, not right now. I'm really tired." With that, he shifted back towards the bedroom. They could fight another day if Reeve really wanted, but after having wrestled and argued with Tseng earlier, Reno did not have it in him for more emotional angst.

It seemed that his husband had other plans, however. Before Reno could get more than a few steps, a hand wrapped around his right arm, dragging him to a halt.

"Yes, right now," the amber-eyed man insisted. "Don't walk away from me."

The Turk shrugged off the grip, though he did cease his movements, turning around to face Reeve, a definitively confused look on his face. "What's up with you, yo?"

The executive shook his head. "Nothing," he replied sharply, his voice defensive.

Reno crossed his arms over his chest, a disbelieving look in his aquamarine eyes. "Yes, you've been acting off for the past few days." Reeve didn't offer an explanation, and his gaze fell. There was a moment of silence before the redhead sighed and shook his head again, arms falling to his side. "Nevermind," he continued, already turning back towards the bedroom. "Look, let's just go to bed." Going to sleep was sounding really good to his weary body, both physically and mentally. Until a sudden thought struck him.

"Oh, and by the way, I ran into Elena earlier. She wanted me to ask you about the requisitions for the medical supplies," the Turk added in with a wave of his hand, not even noticing the subtle darkening of Reeve's features.

Amber eyes turned in a torrent of emotion, fighting to break free, and rather than push it down, the executive released it, unable to restrain his pain any longer. "Of course she did," Reeve replied in a bitter tone, frowning as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the ground, eyes narrowing. "On top of everything else I've had to do today, let's just add one more to the damn list."

Reno bit back a growl of irritation. "Well, that's your job!" he snapped rather tiredly, probably more harshly than he meant as he whipped around to face the executive once more. "It's what you do. You're the damn President."

Reeve sneered. "Look! I didn't want to do this! I didn't ask for this!" He gestured with his hand, frown deepening as his eyes flashed with irritation and anger. "I didn't even have a choice! You can't just tell me what to do and expect me to do it. I'm not your doormat!"

The redhead scowled, narrowing his eyes. "What /is/ up with you?" he questioned, feeling at a loss for words at his lover's uncharacteristic behavior. "This isn't like you," the Turk stated, reaching for Reeve. To his surprise, the other man nearly jerked back.

"How can you be sure?" the executive snapped. "Maybe you don't know me at all." The words hung heavy between them, filling the air with a thick almost tangible tension.

At that moment, the phone suddenly rang with a familiar tone that signified the caller was trying to reach the President. Amber eyes darkened further as his gaze darted towards the phone, lip curling up into a snarl. He reached towards where it hung on the wall and grabbed, yanking the cord and tossing it to the side so that the annoying noise would cease.

Reno's mouth dropped open as his eyes widened in surprise. "What is your fucking problem?" he demanded, blood rushing through his veins. He hadn't wanted to fight. He definitely hadn't wanted to argue. But now, it was here before him, and he couldn't just walk away. It was far too late for that.

"I'll tell you what my fucking problem is!" the executive all but snarled, voice rising and echoing loudly around their apartment. "My fucking problem," he declared spitefully, putting emphasis on his words, "is you, yo!" He added the last mockingly, repeating the speech patterns of his mate.

The Turk's face reddened with anger, his emotions quickly coming to an edge. He was now fiercely upset, and his body portrayed this, hands swinging about in wildly declarative emotions as he spat back even louder, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Reeve took a brief step forward, almost crowding in on Reno's space as he was trapped against the doorway connecting the hall to the living room. "If it wasn't for you, they would have been willing to listen when I tried to warn them about the attacks."

The red-haired male blinked, head tilting to the side as his brow furrowed. The argument with Reeve's mother briefly flashed in his mind, a sudden realization striking him.

"You're still on about that?" he questioned harshly, breath beginning to come out in forceful pants. "And I bet you believe the rest of the crap she said, too!" Every cruel and demeaning word that woman had said reverberated inside Reno's mind. He had thought they were past that. He had thought that Reeve had chosen to not listen, but perhaps he had been wrong.

"Maybe she was right," the executive hissed. "Who would let two gay men adopt? It's not like we can have them on our own."

The truth of what the argument was really about hit Reno like a ton of bricks. All his insecurities about them struck him in the gut like a physical attack, and he reeled from the invisible blow, anger seeping out of his words to be replaced with vulnerability, an emotion he didn't have much experience with. It was odd, out of the two of them, the Turk was the one most hesitant about their relationship. He always feared that one day he would lose the man he loved to a woman. After all, Reeve had been straight once. Perhaps he still was.

"Is that what this is really about? Do you still have regrets about being with me?" The question came out strained, quieter than he meant it to be. He noticed that he was trembling, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he searched Reeve's eyes with an uncertain gaze. "We're married now," the Turk continued in an even softer voice. He felt vulnerable, completely exposed as he bit his lower lip. "It's sort of late for regrets. I thought that meant we were beyond that."

Reeve shook his head, exasperation evident in his tone as his shoulders sagged, all sense of fight seemingly gone from him. "Well, maybe that was a mistake, too."

The already pale man went nearly bloodless, his face having gone strikingly white, and his breath hitched. "You can't mean that," Reno protested, almost pleading, begging for Reeve to take back his hurtful words. Unconsciously, a thumb ran over the wedding band on his finger, tracing the inscription on it.

However, the President had no response, his troubled gaze glancing away, seemingly concentrating on anything but the pained look of his lover. His hands laid limply at his sides, not even clenched as his shoulders sagged. His breath came out in little shallow pants, his face still flushed from his earlier yelling.

Reno froze, the strain of his emotions meeting the maximum and snapping. He turned away, unable to look at the other man any longer as he stared unseeing down the end of the hall, finding that his body was now shaking violently. It hurt so much, almost like someone had shot him, his whole body now cold, emotionless… dead. Warmth trickled down his cheeks as an unnatural silence filled the void between them, and it took him a moment to realize what it was.

Tears.

Reno rarely, if ever, cried. He was strong, stronger than most people, having survived the worst the slums had to offer. Still, he wept now, a lump heavy in his chest as he struggled to breathe through the tears. His throat clamped up, and he couldn't swallow, but the moisture still fell. He couldn't even move to stop them, didn't even have it in him to try.

It was agonizing, almost physically so. His heart beat raggedly in his chest, crushed and lacerated. All his fears about being alone, all his insecurities about having to do it again, having to try and survive on his own, came to life as the silence continued to build, seemingly taking on a life of its own. He couldn't even run away, his legs all but concreted to the ground, fists clenched so tightly that the edges of the delicately crafted ring dug into the flesh of his fingers. Reno tried to blink away the moisture, but it was no use.

A hand landed on his right shoulder, gentle and unassuming. "Hey…" came Reeve's soft voice, thick with regret and guilt. "Don't cry." But the Turk shrugged off the touch, unconsciously taking a step forward.

"I'm not crying," he denied, his voice coming out thick, letting his husband know the opposite was true. He angrily scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, attempting to cease his pained weeping.

Reeve snorted in disbelief as he shook his head, moving quickly to wrap his arms around Reno's waist from behind. He laid his forehead on the redhead's shoulder. The Turk made a half-hearted attempt at getting away but couldn't work up the energy to do so. He sagged backwards into the executive's hold, finding that some liquid still made a wet, salty trail down his cheekbones.

"I'm sorry," Reeve said softly, his voice slightly muffled. "I didn't mean it. I just…" he trailed off, pausing as he searched for the right words. Reno waited in silence, unsure if his slight feeling of relief was even warranted. "I just… don't think I can do it anymore. I'm tired… worn thin… I wish this whole fucking war would be done and over with." He sighed, a warm and heavy breath that was plainly felt through the thin fabric of the Turk's dress shirt. "Or maybe I'm just an asshole."

Reno let out a ragged inhalation, attempting a chuckle that didn't quite make it, coming out as a choked almost drowned laugh. "Yeah, maybe."

One arm tightened around his waist as the other dropped down, reaching for his hand, the one with their promise to one another. He could feel the warmth of the executive through the simple touch as their fingers threaded in a simple clasp.

"You know that I love you… right?" Reeve questioned, voice still muffled and thick, as if he were restraining his own tears.

Reno closed his eyes and leaned back into the touch, swallowing down a thick lump as he blinked away more moisture. "Sometimes… I wonder," he admitted in a choked voice.

Reeve squeezed his hand tightly, a reassuring motion. "I do love you," he said softly. "When you were missing and I didn't know what to think: where you were, whether or not you were alive or dead, needing my help or not… All of me died. I thought…" He paused, a long shuddery sigh leaving his mouth as he attempted to rein in the pain, on the verge of crying but not quite there yet. "I've never loved anyone like I love you. I can't lose you, Reno. I need you," he claimed in a broken voice as he buried his face in his husband's shoulder blade.

Without intending and not even attempting to stop himself, Reno started to cry again, gently falling tears that overwhelmed him. He never thought to hear words like those from Reeve, not when he felt so vulnerable in their relationship.

"Please don't go," the executive pleaded, pushing his face even further into the warmth of the thinner man's shoulder.

The Turk swallowed thickly, voice coming out croaked. "I'm not going… anywhere, yo."

Reeve was silent for a moment before speaking again, words that confused Reno at first. "It's different for us. We're not like Vincent or Aeris… I can't say that we would be given a second chance." If it were at all possible, his hand tightened in its grip on the Turk's. "I mean, look what we're fighting against… Do you honestly believe we will all make it? If any of us even do?"

The red-haired male shook his head. "No. No, I don't."

The arm around his waist became almost crushingly tight as Reeve pulled him even closer, holding him against the solidness of the executive's body, as if he feared Reno were going to suddenly disappear. "Don't leave me."

Reno choked, eyes still thick with tears. "I promise." He hesitated. "I won't go anywhere, if you can say the same." He managed with some difficulty to turn around in Reeve's hold, reaching up with his one free hand to touch the side of his face, rubbing a thumb over the executive's cheek.

His aquamarine eyes were so much brighter than normal and red-rimmed as well. Reeve had to swallow down the lump in his throat as he looked into the orbs that had captivated him from the moment he first laid eyes on the younger redhead.

"I promise."

Reno nodded, a brief movement before he leaned down slightly, enveloping the executive in a chaste kiss. Their lips moved lightly against one another's, a simple and soft touch. He pulled back slowly, their gazes locking before emotion flittered through amber eyes, the same reflecting in Reno's as well. As one, they pressed their lips together, a kiss that was fiercer, bit more demanding. Tongues slid past slightly parted lips, tasting and reigniting fires, restoring lost sureties.

The Turk found he was being slowly pushed backwards, until his body gently collided with the wall behind him. Reeve's right arm remained wrapped around his waist, but the other had rescinded its needy hold on his hand and snuck around his back, fingers tangling in scarlet strands and holding their heads together. Reno wove his free arm around Reeve until he was holding them close.

Their mouth separated slowly, the executive rubbing his fingers through the Turk's hair as he looked deeply into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said once again, "for my harsh words. I just…" He clutched him tighter, closing his eyes for a moment and releasing a shuddery breath before opening them again. "Will you let me make love to you?" he questioned. "To speak with my body the words that won't come out right?"

Reno could feel himself getting all choked up again, but he swallowed down the feeling. He bent his head down to kiss Reeve once more, a silent acquiescence to the President's quiet question. Moments later found Reeve leading his lover down the hall towards the bedroom, neither one noticing a usually bouncy and giggly demi-goddess nod briefly to herself before flashing out of the living room.

Reeve and Reno now stood by their bed in the soft light of a single lamp. The executive reached up to undress his lover, unbuttoning what few buttons remained on the Turk's shirt. Reno's hands came up to help, but Reeve gently took them and moved them aside.

"Let me," he insisted quietly. The scarlet-haired male nodded and closed his eyes as his clothing was slowly removed, the coolness of the room washing over him, only to be chased away by the soft warmth of Reeve's lips as he kissed the bared skin. The scratchiness of Reeve's beard against his flesh was a welcome and familiar feeling, even as a slow desire built up inside the Turk, a gentle arousal that washed over him rather than raged through. His clothes were now gone, quickly swept off, and then, Reeve was kissing him again, a soft press of the lips with a questing tongue that asked rather than demanded entrance. Reno faintly noticed the taste of his lover, like swirling magic, or the taste of an ether.

He could hear the rustle of cloth and knew that Reeve was removing his garments, the articles dropping to the ground without further regard. An unusual act for the executive, but it seemed he was putting his whole concentration and concern into pleasuring his lover, whose heart still ached from their fight. Reeve knew very well of Reno's insecurities, and he was feeling extremely guilty for reminding the Turk of those emotions. He had never wanted Reno to wonder if his love was real.

Their relationship had its ups and downs. They fought from time to time, but it was out of passion, not spite or irritation. They had suffered through much to be together and Reeve honestly loved Reno. He couldn't let that go. Nor would he. The brief moment of insanity he regretted, and without further reprieve, sought to make things right. He pressed forward, melding lips with his lover once more as he tenderly lowered the Turk to the bed.

- - -.

Afterwards, they lay together, sweaty and wrapped in one another's arms with the slight silence of their home washing around them. It was a breathy moment before Reeve's voice pierced the quiet.

"I'm sorry," Reeve murmured again, voice softly carrying across the room.

"Stop apologizing. I've already forgiven you," Reno responded, relishing the warm feeling of Reeve behind him and spooned up against him. "It's understandable, in a way," he went on. "Everyone's being stretched thin… falling apart…" he trailed off.

Reeve subconsciously tightened his grip on Reno. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

The Turk smiled faintly, reaching to grab Reeve's hand slung across him and threading their fingers together. "I love you," he replied softly. "That's not going to change because of one fight. I'm in this til the end, Reeve." He yawned faintly, the fatigue of the day settling on his weary body.

The executive smiled faintly, burying his face into the scarlet hair in front of him. "Let's just go to sleep, ne?"

Reno nodded. "Did you set the alarm?"

"No… I'll just go in late." He paused. "I want to spend my morning with you for once and not have to rush out of bed."

Reno squeezed his grip on Reeve's hand. "Alright," he responded. "That sounds good to me."

It had been a long day, tiring, emotionally draining. His insecurities dragged out until they became a stream of falling pain down his face, his every worry about losing Reeve, something he hadn't previously wanted to face being dragged into the light. But now it seemed all was fine.

Some things had yet to be solved, some topics that had been argued. But they were best saved for the morning… when their heads were clear and they were more relaxed. With that in mind, Reno gave himself up to the comforting touch of his lover and slowly began to drift into sleep, the sound of Reeve's familiar breathing a calming lull.

---

As I"m sure you can guess, there was a smutty scene there near the end that I had to take out. You know the drill, if you're old enough check out the uncut version on my home site. Thanks everyone! I wouldn't mind a few reviews...


	52. The Trouble with Family

_Dream Sequence_

(Voice in mind)

'Internal speech'

Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 52: The Trouble with Family**

_Swirling darkness isolated him atop a singular building, several stories high and made of tons of concrete and glass. He stood alone with his sword, surrounded by curling tendrils of thick, grey smoke… the remnants of a fire or perhaps a battle. Cloud couldn't entirely be sure, not with everything around him veiled in nothingness. _

_But his body felt fatigued, literally dragged down from the weight of constant fighting. His fingers curled tightly around the grip of his sword, sweat streaming down his skin as he struggled to draw in a breath that did not taste like fire. He ached as well… as if his body had been beaten with many large fists of stone. He was tired… so very tired. _

_Then, his senses tingled, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as something, some noise pierced the eerie silence. His head snapped up, mako eyes peering into the formless dark as a malevolent aura poured around him, pulsing and pounding at his fragile human skin. Though he could see nothing, he could feel that it was there, knew without a doubt he was being watched. _

_Laughter echoed around him, dark and mocking, growing louder with each passing minute. Chills raced up his spine, and he swallowed nervously at the prospect of fighting an enemy unseen, though he stood his ground. He had to. Somehow, he knew that if he didn't, something would happen to his family. He had to protect them. _

_Some light flashed, but it was too quickly for him to discern before a searing pain ripped through his left shoulder, blood splashing to the concrete of the roof beneath him. He winced but refused to let go of his blade, in spite of the pain shooting through him. Cloud cursed aloud at the pure speed of the unknown assailant. There was no way he could have avoided that attack. None. _

_More laughter as hot warmth spilled down his arm. "Foolish mortals," the distinctively male voice hissed. "Ignorant anima. Mwahaha." _

_It was only then that he knew the speaker had to be Balaam. There was something in the raspy tone, a mocking revulsion that spoke volumes. _

_Cloud snarled in anger. "Quit hiding behind your shadows, Balaam! Fight me face to face!" _

_His only answer was to attack twice more, slicing open the blond's right leg across the thigh and cutting him in the forehead so that his vision was nearly blinded by the dripping fluid. The human reeled from the blows, the heavy scent of warm copper filling the air around him. It was an unfortunately familiar odor, one that he had grown to hate. At the pain of the wounds, the realization came to him that he didn't have any materia or items either. _

_Cloud was completely on his own._

_The ground beneath him began to shake then as the edges of the unknown building slowly crumbled away, dropping without noise into the abyss around him. The darkness seemed to draw closer, almost as if it was suffocating him, and he nearly choked on the thick air. _

_Balaam sounded amused by this, laughing more as many pairs of glowing crimson eyes suddenly appeared out of the darkness, an evil aura permeating from them. Despair clawed at Cloud, despite his determination. As more agony assailed him, he raised his blade and glared at the mocking demi-deity, keeping his ground though it crumbled to dust around him. _

"_I will destroy you," he vowed. "Even if it takes my dying breath!" _

_The cackling increased, seemingly unaffected by his threat. The building collapsed beneath him, and he was absorbed by the darkness as if it were a sponge. His footing disappeared, and his stomach leapt into his throat, the odd feeling of falling into nothingness causing his head to swoon. _

"_Your wish is my command," taunted Balaam. "And when I'm through with you, they will be mine!" _

_Cloud frowned in confusion and anger, but the look was quickly replaced by agony. His eyes widened almost impossibly so as searing pain ripped through his abdomen, an invisible weapon piercing him as if his flesh were nothing more than butter. Blood gurgled from his lips as he fell backwards, sword slipping from nerveless fingers. _

_No… he had to protect them. No! He had to live… he had to… _

_More laughter echoed around him as his eyes slowly… slid… shut… _

_No!_

Cloud leapt into awareness, heart pounding in his chest as the last remnants of pain reverberated through his body. He blinked, instantly glad that his scream had lodged in his throat when he realized that it had only been a nightmare. The sheets clung to his sweaty form, and with a shaking hand, he brushed away spiky and soaked hair from his brow.

He rubbed that same hand down the side of his face as he peeked over at his wife. She was still sleeping peacefully, her face serene and relaxed with a small smile. He breathed a sigh of relief before glancing at the clock. The bright, yellow luminescent reading confirmed his suspicions. It was only three in the morning. He had been sleeping for less than two hours. No surprise there.

With the strange and discouraging dream still fresh on his mind, Cloud knew falling back asleep would be nearly impossible. He eased the sheets away from his slightly trembling body and silently crept out of the bed, hoping not to wake Aeris. She didn't move as he quietly slipped from the room, scowling at the wobbling in his legs. The house was silent as he descended the stairs, heading immediately for the kitchen. He moved easily in the dark, not bothering to flip a switch until he finally reached his destination.

The brightness of the fluorescent light flooded the room as he seated himself at the bar, reaching immediately for the vodka. He poured one shot and quickly downed it, enjoying the pleasant burn that chased away the remnants of the dream? … nightmare? Or was it a glimpse of things to come? He couldn't really say for sure.

Cloud sighed, tapping his fingers against the countertop as he considered the images from the nightmare. He shivered.

It had felt so weird: the clamminess of the shadows, the searing pain of the wounds, and even Balaam's disdain. He wasn't a prophet; he didn't have any gifts of sight, but he was certain that the dream was of some importance. But he hadn't yet figured out why.

Recently, he had begun to sense a loss of his once strong battle energy. He was weary of fighting, weary of leading, but most of all, weary of fearing. He wanted peace. He was tired of seeing blood and worrying for the lives of those he cared about. Cloud just wanted to smile again without believing that the joy would soon be stolen. He wanted serenity for everyone, which would not happen until Balaam was destroyed, defeated, vanquished… whatever. Sephiroth might have thought that he was a god, but he wasn't. Fighting Balaam would be far more difficult, and Cloud knew he hadn't the strength or skill, especially since he could not even fight along his anima. Cloud began to doubt that he could even effectively be leader once more. In the battle between immortals, he was sorely lacking on all fronts.

(What are you going to do then?) questioned a familiar voice in the back of his mind. He had finally begun to listen to Iblion, even if the deity could not show up physically.

The blond opted to speak aloud, it being less taxing on his fatigued mind. "I haven't yet decided."

(I know you won't just abandon them… but I am also aware of your thinly hatched plan. Do you really think you can trust him, or is it just your hero worship?)

Cloud sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I got over that when I watched him slay the one that I loved. Regardless, he is the best for the task."

(You do trust him then. Interesting.) It was statement, not a question. (Yet, my true query is this: will everyone else? Will they even understand your reasons for doing so? I'm in your head, and I only vaguely grasp it.)

It was then that the realization struck him, nearly slapping him in the face. Perhaps the dream had been a warning! If he were to confront Balaam once the deity was finally located, Cloud would certainly find his death. It made sense, and in a way, supported the recent and uneasy feelings that had assailed him.

"They trust me," he answered quietly. "And though it is a heavy burden, it should be enough." With that, he poured and downed another shot of the vodka.

Iblion laughed lightly. (Aye, that they do… and rightly so. You've become a hero of sorts to them, Spike. If Cloud says they can, then by Kami, they believe they can.)

Cloud shook his head, snorting slightly at that. "It only goes to how desperate things were back then. I was a damned schizo, and the rest… well, I think we all were a bit off our rocker in some way or another."

"But we came through in the end, and that's what matters," inserted another voice easily.

Cloud looked up to find Aeris leaning on the doorjamb to the kitchen, smiling sleepily at him. One hand rubbed her belly. She winked at him before strolling into the kitchen, climbing up on the stool next to him with his assistance.

"You're up early," she commented, gaze flickering to the alcohol and shot glass.

He shrugged. "Wasn't sleeping too well… unpleasant dreams." He reached over, placing a gentle hand on his wife's distended belly, grinning when little Midori gave him an answering kick.

"What kind of dreams?" Aeris asked, frowning slightly. She gripped her mate's hand in hers, jade eyes searching his face. "Cloud?"

He sighed and started toying with the vodka bottle. "The kind that makes you wake up sweating and frightened for the lives of everyone and everything you love." He squeezed her hand in an attempt at reassurance. "But I'm fine now."

"You're worried." It was a statement. "About Balaam. About the battle…. about yourself."

He nodded. "That's a good chunk of it."

She chewed her lip in thought. "I wish I had something to say, but I don't. I'm worried, too, especially for Midori and knowing that there's nothing I can do." Her free hand rubbed at her belly. "But I do know that I have faith in us, in the strength of our friends. We won't lose because we can't. Or as I heard Nanaki once say, 'It doesn't matter if we can, only that we have to.' It is something that I have always held close."

A smile formed at the edge of his lips as he looked over at his wife, leaning in for a soft and passionate kiss. "I knew there was a reason I married you," he commented quietly.

"You mean other than my bright and cheery disposition, brilliant pick-up lines and angelic demeanor?" she questioned teasingly, giggling.

_Would you like to buy a flower? _Such a classy pick-up line for a handsome stranger that was near an echo to someone else she knew.

He laughed softly and slid down from the stool. "Let's go back to bed," he suggested as he aided her in her descent. "I think I can sleep now."

"That's what you said six months ago. And now look at me." She shot him a baleful look and poked playfully at his shoulder.

Cloud shook his head. "Innocent angel, my ass. You just liked fooling everyone." He led her back towards the stairs, leaving the glasses on the bar counter for him to clean in the morning. He flipped the light switch off as he passed, guiding her from where she could not see in the dark.

"I never claimed to be innocent. You just assumed so," she clarified, wagging a finger at him. But then her tone changed, becoming somewhat sorrowful and wistful. "Besides, from the look that I saw in your eyes back then… you needed an angel."

He sighed, admitting that she spoke the truth. "I think… that I've made a decision," was his response. "I'm not sure how everyone will respond. But at this point, it's the best I can do for them… and for us."

She frowned thoughtfully, huffing slightly as they climbed the last little bit of stairs and eased their way towards the shared bedroom. "Will you tell me?"

"Not until I know for certain. I'm still debating, and I don't want you to worry needlessly."

She nodded, seeming to come to her own decision before she stopped them in the midst of the hallway, bringing his head up to close to hers before sharing another passionate kiss and threading her fingers with his. "Whatever you do decide, I'm certain it will be right. I'm with you, Cloud."

Cloud grinned, the action visible within the small glow of the hallway night light. "Til death do us part."

Aeris shook her head, pulling him into the bedroom. "Nope. Even further after. You're stuck with me, Spike."

The ex-SOLDIER rolled his eyes but followed her, suddenly finding his fatigue overwhelming him. Tomorrow, it would all be solved. Tomorrow, his decision would be made. But for now, he could rest knowing that at least one person was on his side.

(Hey!)

Make that two.

-----------

This time around things were a little different. Vincent had returned to an empty room aboard the suspiciously silent and still Highwind. This was after he had trouble getting in because he didn't know the new code. Cid had changed it three months before. Luckily, one of the crew had been watching the security feed and recognized him. He had been let in without a fuss.

But Cid had been nowhere to be found.

The gunman felt both relieved and disappointed. He wanted to work out the argument but wasn't sure if he was ready for the questions. As a result, he hadn't bothered to search for the missing pilot. He opted to change out of his clothing, bathe to wash off the unfortunate chocobo odor, and then climb tiredly into bed. The day had been more than draining for him.

Seeing Lucrecia always seemed to suck the vigor right out of him, as if her very presence was a leech on his soul. The love that he once harbored had faded and crumbled in the face of her deeds. Now, it was sufficient enough to claim that he blatantly pitied her but not enough to grant her peace in her death. He left that decision up to the child that she had wronged.

Vincent was still certain that never knowing was the best choice for them. He had just managed to release much of his guilt, and Sephiroth was beginning to experience all of his. It wouldn't be fair to either of them. Perhaps in the future, if there even was one, he would reconsider.

His thoughts then turned towards what Erebus and the unnamed demi-deity had revealed. That he had been tricked, effectively duped by the chaotic and masterful Balaam. His sacrifice which hadn't even been one; it was for naught. Jenova… Sephiroth… everything could be traced back to Balaam's desire for freedom. It sickened him. He still loathed Hojo for what the scientist had done, but in a way, he had been used by Balaam as well… mortals in the hands of the gods, pawns in an immortal chess game.

Vincent understood now why his eyes had changed and his skin tanned. It went along with the same reason his senses were no longer as acute and his body having finally begun to age. With the loss of the demi-deities from his body, all that remained was the mako and Jenova cells. He would still live longer and be able to see in the dark but his super-hearing and acute nose had been lost.

Although he hadn't been free long enough for sure, Vincent recognized the feelings in his own body. At any rate, as Balaam's power leaked from him, he slowly became nothing more than Cloud… not quite normal, but no longer a monster. His eyes still glowed, and he healed more quickly, but he was mortal.

He could die.

It was strange how people claimed they wanted to live forever. But he had always desired mortality, ever since the moment Hojo had fired at him. He didn't want to continue, while everyone he knew or loved perished or exist forever in a cursed body. He was glad for his mortality, though he vowed to be a bit more cautious in the future. He wasn't suicidal.

And before he could celebrate his release from the chains of the demi-deities, Balaam had to be destroyed. Yet, prior to that, he had to figure out whom the other presence in his head was. Vincent was certain that Cid could tell him exactly what happened in the crater, but he had to wait for the pilot to return first from wherever he was.

When Vincent awoke the next morning, Cid still hadn't come back.

The gunman rose from their bed, worry beginning to mar his features and claw its way into his body, nestling very close to his heart. Cid shouldn't have been gone this long.

What if somehow he had met something he couldn't handle? What if he was hurt?

Concerned, Vincent dressed quickly, grabbed the Hell Fire, and left the room, tying his hair back as he did so. His first task was to seek out someone on the airship. Perhaps they knew where Cid had gone.

He first went to the bridge. The young man at the helm informed him that after taking Yuffie and Nanaki to Wutai the day before, no one had seen the Captain. He had left the Highwind without explaining his destination, so Vincent left the airship and headed into the remnants of Midgar and the beginnings of Edge. He was certain Reeve would be able to find Cid. And if anything, the president would have a phone, which the ex-Turk sorely lacked. He ran into a slightly morose and thoughtful Cloud who hadn't seen Cid either. But the blond did offer to make some phone calls.

Thirty minutes later found a frustrated and slightly annoyed Vincent returning to the Highwind, empty-handed and with a headache. Gail, Reeve's replacement secretary, a cousin of Tifa's old friend Johnny and someone they could trust, had informed them that Reeve had taken a day off, an odd occurrence.

Further dialing only resulted in a busy signal from the President's home. Neither Barret or Rude, currently getting sloshed at a bar for reason's unknown, had seen the pilot either. Elena claimed that Cid had stopped by earlier looking for Archer, but she sounded preoccupied. Nor did she know where Tseng or Archer could be found. And it seemed no one had Archer's home number as his cell phone appeared to be broken. Repeated dialing to Cid's PHS sent them straight to voice mail, the device obviously dead or off.

Sigh.

Cloud attempted to assure Vincent that Cid was fine before leaving, now on his way to the ShinRa training center. Judging by the look in the blond's eyes, the gunman didn't dare ask. If Cloud had wanted someone to talk to or share with, he would have said something. Vincent sighed audibly afterwards, eyebrow twitching, thanked him, and returned to the Highwind where he was again met with an empty room.

If Cid had not yet returned, that meant he was still angry. It was an unfortunate thought that made him rub his forehead, feeling his headache turn into a migraine of epic proportions. He was quite certain that there was going to be an argument soon.

Vincent sat down on the bed and contemplated going to the common room, finding that his stomach was now protesting the extreme lack of food. He was about to rise and do just that when the handle of the door jiggled seconds before it opened wide, emitting one tired and slightly hung-over Cid Highwind.

The pilot didn't notice Vincent's presence at first, idly rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely. He sort of stumbled in, tripping over the doorjamb as the door shut behind him. The gunman watched it all with an impassive expression, waiting for the blond to say something… anything. It wasn't until Cid stopped to take off his boots that he even realized he was not alone.

Bleary blue eyes looked up and locked on grey ones, slightly widening in surprise. Cid grunted, "Vince, ya finally came home."

"I could say the same for you," replied the ex-Turk coolly. "And in a terrible state, I might add." Truthfully, the pilot's clothes were rumpled looking, like he had slept in them. Vincent was certain they were the same that he had worn yesterday. His hair was all a mess, sticking up worse than usual, and he had the look of a man getting over a night of binge drinking and diving into the worst bars in town.

Cid shrugged as he slowly began to pull off his shirt, seeking a fresh one from the dresser drawers. "I got a little wasted last night," he replied simply. In a more casual voice, showing a surprising attempt at subtlety, he continued, "Lucrecia was still living then?"

The gunman bit back a sigh as he regarded the pilot and his almost nonchalant questioning. "Yes. Unfortunately for her."

Cid gave a small humph, a sound that Vincent barely heard. "Why bother with pity?"

"It's not that simple," the dark-haired man pointed out. "No matter what she did to me, she is still his mother. And he's been given a second chance and--."

"--and I suppose it doesn't matter that you could be his father either," Cid interrupted harshly as he stripped out of his dirty jeans, movements jerky and hurried.

Vincent's brow furrowed even as his heart sank, the feared argument coming to fruition. "What?" He could come up with no better response, uncertain where the pilot was heading with that statement.

But the anger in the pilot's movements and voice could not be denied. "One big happy fucking family, huh? Revive a dying flame? Dear old Sephiroth's got parents now, a fairy tale ending. Nevermind that the very same man nearly destroyed Gaia six months ago… and that she ate your heart, chewed it up, and spat it back out!" He was not yelling, but his voice was low, harsh, and thick with emotion. Another pair of clean blue jeans snapped into place, but he still refused to turn and look at his lover.

"He's not the same man," Vincent insisted, hoping that Cid didn't really believe he had gone to see her to rekindle their old relationship. "If you can believe me about not needing to atone, if you can forgive my past… then why can't you see that?"

"Maybe because you didn't try to kill me. The blame is not the same," Cid retorted.

There was no purpose in arguing with Cid about Sephiroth… that was something that the pilot would have to come to grips with on his own. Just like convincing some of the others, it would take finding his own faith in the restored General. No amount of words could change his opinion, so Vincent sighed and changed the subject, returning to their original line of conversation.

"You were drinking all night? Where did you sleep?"

Cid paused in his movements, after pulling a clean shirt over his head and attempting to make some arrangement to his hair. "I was at Archer's," he replied quietly, without turning around. "I didn't feel like drinking alone." There was a slight hint of sorrow in his voice that Vincent did not fail to notice.

But it was quickly swallowed by the jealousy that flared up within the gunman. Cid was at his ex-boyfriend's house all night… stayed there even. Drinking. Not that the pilot couldn't handle his alcohol… but considering the state of their affairs the last time they had spoken, he couldn't stop the blooming jealousy that threatened to consume him.

"Archer's?"

It was then that Cid turned around, gazing at Vincent with an emotion that the gunman wasn't sure how to interpret. Jealousy mirroring his own, sadness… regret?… fear? He couldn't be sure; it all swirled together within sky-colored irises. "And you went to see Lucrecia," he commented by way of answer.

Grey eyes narrowed. "No matter what you think, I no longer desire her." There was only one way he could interpret Cid's response. "Does Archer know that you used him?" he questioned critically, voice thick with venom and something else… that familiar, raw, and aching pain that always seemed to accompany his life. It was something akin to hurt.

Cid wouldn't… would he? Do something so cruel to get back at him? Had time truly changed him?

The pilot's eyes widened in surprise, jaw nearly dropping in shock. "I wouldn't do that!" he denied loudly, hand drawing up into a fist. His face flared with hurt. "I'm not that vindictive! I love you, Vincent! Since the day I first saw you in the rocket with those &$ beautiful crimson eyes, I think I've loved you that long! I wouldn't betray you!"

The gunman gulped at his passionate words, finding them painful, even though they hadn't intended to be so.

"How can you say it so easily?" questioned Vincent brokenly, words pulled from his mouth as he rose to his feet, hands clenched at his side. He didn't understand. "You know nothing of me!"

"Easy? You think I can just speak of love as if it were some random emotion that flopped in and out of my life?" the pilot demanded incredulously.

Vincent shook his head, beginning to feel a headache pulsing at his temples. "I don't know, Cid." He paused, eyes searching the pilot's face but not finding what he sought. "I don't know you. Hell, up until a week ago, I didn't even remember you!"

His voice echoed throughout the room, and in the back of their minds, they vaguely registered the sound of someone's PHS ringing. But both ignored the device, the ring tone fading into obscurity.

Cid paled at the reminder, blue eyes darkening with the remembered pain, even as he yelled brokenly. "You didn't want to remember!" he accused, forcing Vincent to face the truth he had long been avoiding. "That's how you've always been! Hiding yourself and your secrets, not letting any of us in!" He took a step towards the gunman, nearly enveloping the gunman with the force of his emotions as they spilled from him in a cresting wave. "I don't know you either, Vincent! Because you won't let me. Always running away from us, from me!"

Vincent blinked even as he physically reeled from Cid, unconsciously taking a step backwards. "Running?" he repeated. It was the only coherent statement he could form.

"Yes, running!" Cid made a distinctive gesture with his hand, eyes flaring with pain. He reached for Vincent, but the gunman recoiled again, especially in the face of the pilot's truth. "Anytime you don't understand something or you feel you need something, you run! When it came time to fight Chaos, you did that on your own. You wouldn't come to me, open up to me, no matter how hard I knocked! I loved you for far longer than I could say, but you would never let me!" His voice cracked, but he kept going, pushing forward to release the words that tumbled from his lips faster than he could stop them. "You damn bastard, you kept running the fuck away. So goddamned afraid…"

"Afraid?" Vincent responded, voice barely louder than a whisper. "Is that what you think of me… as some sort of coward?" Is that what they all believed of him?

The phone stopped ringing in the background, accentuating the tense silence as Cid struggled to regain control of himself, recognizing the haunted look that was beginning to take over Vincent's features. He darted forward, nearly trapping the gunman as he grabbed him by the shoulders and forced his lover to look at him, sky blue meeting stone grey.

The phone began to ring again, the same familiar tune, but he ignored it. Mr. Fucking President could wait for his damned ride. This was far more important.

"No," Cid replied calmly, taking a deep breath. "I think of you as my lover! As the only one who means anything… everything to me!" His hands tightened their hold on Vincent's shoulders, eyes threatening to tear. "But I'm dying to be let in! I'm tired of standing on the outside with my nose pressed to the fucking glass! I want to know you, Vincent Valentine! I want you to goddamn trust me." The last was said on a whisper, more like a plea.

It felt like the pilot could see right through him, realizing the truth about what he couldn't understand himself. They didn't know each other, and Vincent had always kept Cid away from his past, except for a single time. Yet, he refused to allow the pilot to accompany him… as if he were afraid. It was still too hard, too dangerous to trust. Even if he did love… he didn't know if it was /enough/.

It was raw, aching… and all too familiar. "Well, I can't!" roared Vincent, unable to keep his calm. "It's not that simple. It's never that easy!

Blue eyes dimmed with pain, voice dropping dangerously low. "So that's how it is then?" he said with regret. "Secrets for the rest of our lives, you standing there… and me over here with a wall of ice, your sacred damn past and secrets, between us. Always… /her/."

Confusion overcame him. He wasn't even sure what they were arguing about anymore. Her? Did Cid still believe he cared for Lucrecia simply because he sought to spare the pilot from unnecessary pain? Words escaped him and he found he couldn't even continue to speak. He had no response to give. He turned his gaze away, following the motion with his body and removing Cid's gentle touch from his shoulders. His mind settled on the sound that had been disturbing his consciousness, finding nothing better to say.

"Answer your phone," he responded hoarsely, voice slightly icy. Vincent wasn't able to see the flurry of emotions that flickered across the pilot's face before he stormed across the room and angrily snatched up the ringing device from the desk top.

"Goddammit, what?" the pilot barked into the receiver, half-expecting it to be Reeve.

Instead, a different familiar voice came through. "Captain--"

"Shera! Now is not the damn time! I'm busy," he snapped impatiently, rubbing his forehead with a finger and vaguely noticing that his body was shaking. Gah, he really could use a cigarette… or twenty.

However, the engineer was in no mood for his crappy attitude. "Well make time," she snapped angrily. "Your father is dead, Cid."

For a moment, all the blood drained from his body, only to be quickly replaced by a seething rage. "What the hell do I care about that bastard for?"

Shera sighed, she being one of the only few who knew anything of the estranged Highwind family. As a result, it was she who they had been able to contact rather than Cid.

"You're in his will, Cid. You have to come to the funeral."

"I don't want the damn money!" Cid roared, taking out his emotional pain on Shera as seemed usual for him. It was so much easier to revert to his "bastard attitude" than face his true feelings. And he had the nerve to call Vincent a coward.

"There's only one thing I've wanted from him, and his money certainly ain't going to make up for it."

The brunette was a long way away from the old days; however, and was in no mood for his attitude, the hormones having changed her emotions rapidly.

"That is beyond the point! He's family, Captain, and with the world going all to shit, the least you can do is remember that!" There was a huff before her final words came through, more of an order than anything. "Be there."

The phone went dead in his hands, the annoying beeping sound of a disconnected call droning through the speaker.

Cid bit his lip, completely silent for a moment, until the hand holding his PHS tightened, nearly knuckle white and shook. He gave no warning before suddenly and angrily throwing the defenseless device against the wall, where it struck with a low thud and fell to the ground in pieces.

There was a moment where neither man looked at each other. The sound of Cid's heavy breathing filled the eerie quiet and Vincent was especially confused since he had only heard one half of the conversation. Yet, compared to the swirling inside him, the confusion was easy to bear.

All at once, Cid moved. He snatched his goggles off the table, cigarette pack included, and strode for the door, forgetting even to grab his boots. He put his hand on the knob and yanked the door open, it creaking slightly. However, the pilot paused before heading out.

"We're going to Costa del Sol. My father is dead," he explained in a matter-of-fact voice, almost as if nothing had occurred.

"Cid--"

"I don't want to hear it," the blond interrupted easily. He paused, seeming to search for the right words before he continued, tone low and even, "You say you know nothing about me. Well, here's your chance." The sound of the door slamming shut accompanied the last of his words.

Vincent was left behind, staring in shock at the wall in front of him even as he dimly registered that he was shaking. His knees buckled, and he slumped down, connecting with the bed as he did so. He didn't understand. How in hell had things gone so horribly wrong? Almost like the words weren't his own, that his mind had taken its own course.

That had been their first true argument, though honestly it was a carry over from the minor disagreement of the previous day. And it hurt, knowing that Cid was angry and upset with him, even if he didn't understand the reason. He had allowed himself to trust the pilot, allowed Cid to enter into his heart and although he didn't think there would be a fairy tale ending, he had hoped that the time for serious sorrow had passed.

"What just happened?" Erebus' clear tone suddenly filled the room as the demi-deity popped into existence.

The gunman looked up, a deeply confused expression in his face as he worked to calm the trembling of his body. "I don't know," he answered shaking his head. "Honestly, Erebus, I really don't."

The demi-god sighed. "Well, you had better find out," he suggested. "Otherwise it's going to get worse."

Vincent's grey gaze fell to the floor. "Yes," he responded. "I know."

---

Review please! Thanks so much!


	53. My Lover, My Enemy

**Warning: Heterosexual smuttiness in the second part. I'm editing it but not taking it completely out. Don't like, don't read. Don't worry, it's brief and hopefully as tasteful as a lemonish lime can go. That's my warning though, so don't say it's not there. Other than that, ENJOY!!!**

Special thanks to anyone who reads and reviews, and to those ten or so people that have me on their alert list that I haven't heard from yet. At least I hope you're reading! Thanks everyone!

**Chapter 53: My Lover, My Enemy**

It was hot, almost scorchingly so. The sun was bearing down upon him with full force, a fierce rebuttal against autumn that was quickly approaching. And in his dark clothing, Sephiroth was faring horribly against the heat, sweat already streaming down his brow. As a last minute resort, he tied his hair into a messy bun on the top of his head, but still… it was unbearable.

Currently, he stood at the training arena… an empty and abandoned arena at that. He was also alone, not sure where Zack or his usual Turk escorts had disappeared to. It seemed they didn't feel like bothering to keep an eye on him anymore. Or perhaps they had been told to stay away. He had his sword on one hand, running through some stretching exercises to get his blood flowing and his body prepped. He was waiting, at the moment, for Cloud. He wasn't sure why the blond had called him out for a practice session, and to be perfectly honest, he was a little confused and nervous.

Apprehension was not a feeling that Sephiroth was accustomed to, especially not when concerning a man below his skill and younger than him. But he very well knew the importance of said man. Cloud was the leader of those that had defeated him, of those that had taken it upon themselves to save the world once again. He was a hero, an icon to those people… and someone whose life Sephiroth had ruined once upon a time.

He and Cloud had a history. One steeped in blood and obsession, tears and pain. And ever since his return from the "dead", the younger blond had been distinctly avoiding him, only speaking when there were others around. Unaccustomed to people's emotions, he couldn't even begin to guess what was going on.

So when his phone rang this morning, a phone he hadn't even realize he possessed, he was surprised to find Cloud asking him to spar the next day. He claimed he had something important to say as well. Sephiroth had agreed, out of sheer curiosity more than anything else. Zack hadn't really known what to make of it either, even though he knew the both of them the best. Besides, his friend had been quiet lately, always rubbing his forehead and occasionally grimacing. If Sephiroth didn't know better, he would guess that Zack was turning into Tseng.

Hmm.

The sound of booted feet scratching across the sand was Sephiroth's only warning as he turned, finding Cloud approaching him, the Ultima sword in the sheath on his back. There was an interesting look on the younger man's face, one that he wasn't sure how to interpret. Instead, Sephiroth kept his mouth shut and faced the approaching swordsman, waiting for him to make the first move.

He idly noted that Cloud had his strongest sword with him, as if this was a real battle. It only served to confuse him more, including the flickering of emotions that kept taking over the other male's features. Despite the hardships that he had suffered, Cloud still looked rather young.

"You came," the blond stated simply, coming to stand a few feet away.

A silverish brow rose. "You didn't think I would?" Sephiroth questioned in return.

Cloud shrugged, folding his arms over his chest, though he kept his mako gaze pinned on him. "I almost didn't myself."

"But you were the one who called me," Sephiroth pointed out, becoming increasingly confused. Cloud was acting, for lack of a better word, a bit like an idiot. He wasn't making much sense.

A blond head nodded. "That I did," he replied in a distracted voice, eyes suddenly shifting to some far off target, narrowing in contemplation. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, seemingly entirely inward.

"Why?"

Cloud exhaled. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure." He paused and pursed his lips before dragging his gaze back to the former General, locking eyes with him. His expression suddenly became serious. "We're here to duel, aren't we? Should we get started?"

Sephiroth's brow furrowed unintentionally, but he nodded, nonetheless. Cloud was acting odd, and he wasn't quite sure what the blond wanted from him. He had gone from completely ignoring Sephiroth to requesting this sudden solo training session. Regardless, he was certain that whatever the younger man had to say or his purpose, it would all be revealed soon enough.

"Don't hold back," Cloud ordered as he unsheathed his sword, already getting into his attack stance. Sephiroth copied him, fluidly moving his borrowed weapon and his body until he was squared off with the blond. It was a strange request, but Sephiroth merely inclined his head in acknowledgment.

The world paused, a breath of wind brushing across both of them as they stared each other down, bodies tensed and poised, ready to attack at a moment's notice. Muscles twitched. Sweat dripped down Sephiroth's back. Cloud breathed loudly. Then quickly, almost faster than lightning, the blond was the first to move. His thick, black boots digging into the ground as he hefted the Ultima sword in a fierce full-frontal assault.

Sephiroth's right foot slid forward, raising the Masamune as he quickly blocked the heavy swing, their swords ringing as the brightness of the sun flashed on the metal blades. A half second later had both spinning away from each other, sand and dirt grinding beneath their boots. Arms swung and another well-timed blow was blocked from behind, Sephiroth unable to resist the slight smirk of satisfaction. Still, Cloud merely blinked and pulled back, determined and deadly. Blades met again with a clang before beginning a series of intricate parries and attacks, swords weaving in offense and defense.

They refused to give ground, pushing steadily onwards, retreating only to force their bodies forward again. The metal of their blades warmed with the repeated blows and the occasionally spark of power or perhaps fire flared up between them. Cloud pushed forward with a great burst of strength, hoping to put Sephiroth off balance. Yet, the former General was far too skilled and strong for that. He pressed back against Cloud's attack with an even stronger shove, forcing him to stumble backwards. With a great and acrobatic leap, he twisted his body, appearing suddenly behind the blond who somehow managed to turn and parry with the huge Ultima blade.

The ringing of their blades filled the air, along with the sound of their panting. A dust cloud built up around them, a testament to their boots scraping across the ground. The sun beamed down on them, and still somehow, Sephiroth felt he was being cheated. There was a strange bead of tension to their duel, as if they were fighting again in the bowels of the Northern Crater, Cloud trying to destroy the man that had forever altered his life.

Their blades met, for once, forces equal as Cloud stared at him over the point where they pressed against each other. He growled, bared his teeth, and narrowed his eyes, digging his boots into the ground as he did so.

"Do you know how hard it is for me every time I look at you?" the blond snarled suddenly, through heaving gasps of breath. "When I'm lying next to my wife at night – my pregnant wife." He clenched his teeth, mako eyes blazing. "How hard it is when I remember you're alive?"

Sephiroth was at a loss for words, hand unconsciously tightening in its grip on the hilt of the Masamune. He wasn't entirely sure what Cloud was trying to convey to him.

"What?" he questioned, but in the same moment, Cloud broke away from their stalemate with a spin, executing a series of fierce and heavy-handed downswings that forced Sephiroth back a few steps.

A rock tumbled beneath his boot. He faltered as he noticed the expression on the other man's face, and Sephiroth was too distracted to side-step as a blade nicked him in the shoulder. The pain was nothing, and there wasn't even any blood. Still, it was plainly evident then that Cloud was serious. There was something more to this supposed training session.

Sephiroth gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the ground, pushing himself forward with great momentum. He allowed the longer reach of the Masamune to force Cloud into a retreat, swinging with a fierce backswing to allow himself some breathing room. However, the younger man would have none of it. He ignored the dust swirling in his gaze and the sweat streaming down his brow, instead pushing forward. He sliced upwards at his opponent, a move which the former General easily blocked. Yet, he quickly shifted his weight, lashing out with a heavily booted foot. Sephiroth effortlessly leaned back to avoid the blow, maintaining his balance easily and managing to block the next violent downswing of the Ultima Sword. At the same moment, he swung out with a expertly trained fist to grip the hilt of Cloud's weapon, bringing them both to a halt.

And it wasn't then that Sephiroth even realized he had somehow marked Cloud, a short but still fiercely bleeding cut across the younger man's cheekbone.

"Have you forgotten?" Cloud hissed, their faces so close he could feel the blond's breath on his face. "Am I truly that beneath your notice?"

"Forgotten?" Sephiroth sent back, beginning to be thoroughly annoyed by Cloud's evasiveness and strange behavior. How he could he have forgotten something he didn't know to remember?

The blond shook his head, sweat-soaked blond spikes limply falling around his face and into his vision, lips moving soundlessly as if speaking to someone else. "Nevermind that," he countered before querying again, this time his voice demanding. "Why are you here?"

Sephiroth blinked, unsure how to respond to that. Just then, he sensed a tiny shift in the blond's movement and reacted quickly, avoiding the fist aimed for his head and twisting backwards. He extricated his grasp from the hilt of the Ultima Sword, dodging a well-placed kick. Cloud took several swipes at him, beginning another exchange of blows.

"Are you here to fight for us?" the blond demanded through clenched teeth, fierce and angry in his movements.

Downswing. Parry. Upswing. Clang!

"Are you going to die for this planet?"

Blade met blade, but Cloud pushed on, the flat of his sword screeching along the length of the Masamune with a horrible sound. He lashed out with another foot, but Sephiroth shifted his weight, pulling back his own blade and slashing at the still attacking blond. However, Cloud was ready for it, easily manipulating the heavier Ultima sword until the two legendary weapons met with another fierce ringing noise that echoed across the empty arena.

Sephiroth pulled back from the brief respite, Cloud reeling as well.

"Are you willing to die to save one of us?" the blond all but spat, something in his expression akin to sadness, though his eyes were clouded with anger and worry… hurt. So many emotions swirled about, too many for Sephiroth to interpret. He didn't know what had gotten into the blond, only able to think that perhaps Cloud was seeking his revenge, that he had not forgiven him in the slightest.

The moment the words left Cloud's lips, however, he wasted no time in emitting a cry of rage and launching himself at Sephiroth, blade gleaming in the bright sunlight.

Slash! Defend! Parry! Block! Slash!

One right after another, nearly a blur to anyone who might have been watching. It seemed like Cloud was holding his own against the Great General, but to anyone who knew better, they could see that Sephiroth was in fact holding back… that he was merely defending with few, if any, counterattacks. Regardless, little by little, the blond could not hold against the onslaught.

Then a mistake, a shifted knee, and with a powerful blow, the younger male went flying several feet backwards, boots sliding across the sandy dirt and digging great furrows as they did so. His blade dug into the ground, trying to stop his momentum as his chest heaved from the force of Sephiroth's blow. The older man hadn't even used his full power.

"Why?" Sephiroth demanded, his breaths coming out ragged, feeling haggard in his entire body, but it was more from his annoyance than from actual strain. His hair had come loose from the bun, flitting about his face, and his clothes stuck to his form it awkward places. Still, he was not weary from the exertion of the battle, rather from the emotional damage that Cloud was wrecking on him. The younger man was confusing him, making him question everything.

Was he willing to die? Why was he there? What did it matter? And why wasn't he trying to fight!?!

Cloud came to a stop a good twenty feet from the panting former General, pulling himself up to a firm standing position and gripping the Ultima blade firmly. He stared down Sephiroth, his own chest heaving with the exertion. He had not fought a true battle in a long time, which had only gone to show him how truly right he was for making his decision.

"Why aren't you using your real power?" Sephiroth shot back harshly, even as he eyed the slowly and purposefully approaching Cloud. The younger male had recovered quickly from the blow and seemed ready to fight again. "You are stronger than this!"

Cloud sucked in a breath, some strange emotion flittering across his face before he hurled himself at the former General. His sword flew in a quick succession of attacks that, for anyone other than Sephiroth, might have been difficult to dodge. But they were also wild, unpredictable, almost inefficient swings of a heavy blade that wore down the blond's stamina.

"No--"

Clang! Ring! Boot skidding across the dirt. Dust flying into the air, choking their throats and lungs as Cloud words were a denial, meant with every fabric of his being.

"--I'm--"

Sephiroth was gaining ground and quickly, finding it easy as Cloud seemed to degenerate, losing every once of his control, arms shaking in their grip.

"--Not!"

Clang! A sharp, angry sound as the Ultima Sword went flying from Cloud's hands, lost from an unsteady grip and a powerful slash by Sephiroth. The Masamune stopped itself inches from Cloud's neck as two pairs of eyes locked onto each other.

The blond's chest heaved as he stood stock still, something seeming to glint in his gaze, almost like tears were threatening to fall. "I never was," Cloud bit out softly, swallowing hard.

Sephiroth hesitated and regarded him, a bizarre feeling making its way into the pit of his stomach. His entire body was on fire from the battle, even his own breath was coming in short quick pants. Slowly, he lowered his sword, all fight seeming to have drained out of the shorter blond.

"I can't do it anymore. I don't have the strength or the power…" Cloud said in a weak voice, seemingly having lost all of its vigor and vitality. He seemed entirely frail then, broken, like something had stolen everything from him once again… or threatened to do so. It was then that Sephiroth noticed the shadows behind the mako blue gaze, shadows that he well knew. It was the grey formlessness of someone whose sleep had been haunted by nightmares, night after night, an endless mélange of terror and regret.

"I can't lead them into battle… but you can," the blond finished, never taking his solemn gaze off the man he had once idolized, worshiped in all his entirety. To a man he had once desired with every inch of his body.

Sephiroth's eyes widened unintentionally. Was he hearing this correctly? Had Cloud come to him to ask him to lead them? To take over his position? It seemed impossible, improbable. By all accounts, he was still the blond's enemy, still the one that Cloud should despise… hate the most.

"You are asking me to lead them?" he questioned aloud, seeking confirmation. At Cloud's answering nod, he shook his head, gaze dropping to the ground. His hand suddenly shook on the hilt of the Masamune, but he didn't seem to notice. He didn't know if he could do such a thing, if he could handle that responsibility. And suddenly, the blond's actions made sense, his questions during the battle, his reluctance… everything.

And when his voice came out once again, it was just as quiet as Cloud's, if not more so. "Why me?" he asked, gaze finally rising to lock with the blond's. "Why not Zack?" The dark-haired man was a smarter choice. He was trustworthy, loyal, skilled… sane, most importantly.

Cloud shook his head. "It has to be you," he answered firmly. "Zack is Zack. He's my friend. I love him dearly. I trust him, and we both know he's strong." The words became defiant then, strong, showing significantly more of that leadership Sephiroth knew was buried in his opponent. "But he's not you! He's not the Great General Sephiroth."

Mossy eyes widened in disbelief. He found himself at a loss for words, only knowing that he had to protest. He couldn't do it; there was no way. He simply wasn't sane enough… nor did he think anyone else would trust him.

"But--"

The blond cut him off, however, before he could even properly turn him down.

"I need you to do this!" Cloud insisted, hands curling into a fist. "I can't go! If I do… I know something will happen. If I'm not here…" He paused, fisted hands beginning to shake at his sides as he stared at the ground, fear, and sorrow swirling in the blue orbs. "If I'm not here, who will protect them?"

Sephiroth was startled by the sheer vehemence in the other man's tone, but still, his reluctance was heavy within him. It wasn't a matter of believing whether or not he was capable; he could certainly be a leader. He had done so before, but it was more a matter of whether or not he was of a mind to do so successfully. He could very well lead them all to their doom in his madness. He couldn't have that on his soul, not along with everything else.

"Cloud, I…" he trailed off, unable to completely deny him, not when those eyes looked up at him again, bright and so full of trust. It was something Sephiroth was certain that he did not deserve.

"Command them, Sephiroth," Cloud said in a voice full of command but also pleading. "You're the only who can. I don't understand it. I can't explain it, but I trust you… that you'll make the right decision, that in your hands is our peace."

The very word itself was almost foreign to him, except for the feelings that he had for his best friend. "In my hands?" Sephiroth floundered.

Cloud sighed, running a hand through his hair and wincing as if the motion pained him. "I hear him… but he can't answer me. I could never make it into SOLDIER. And in a fight against immortals, I may as well have signed a death warrant." He locked eyes with the man that had once been his idol and in many ways probably still was. He was powerful. He was strong, nearly unflinching in the face of all that he had been forced to bear.

"We need victory," the blond stated firmly. "Above all, Gaia needs peace."

"How can you say that?" questioned Sephiroth. "How can you trust me?" It still baffled the other man in so many ways, this unwavering belief that Cloud had in him. Even after all that had occurred, it was still present.

Cloud bit his lip but didn't move his gaze. "Once long ago… I may have even loved you. Regardless, I idolized you, and more so, I trust Zack. You're not the same, and we all make mistakes." He took a deep breath, disjointed explanation only further confusing Sephiroth. "I trust you because I know if I don't, then we may all be doomed."

Doomed. It was such an absolute word, implying no other option. Was there truly no one else that Cloud had to rely on a half-sane man only recently returned to life?

"And what If I say no?"

Limp blond spikes wavered as Cloud shook his head. "You won't," he replied firmly. "Because you know as well as I do that this is why you are here, this is why you've been given the second chance. Despite what I asked of you, I know you only used a fraction your strength, while I was giving it all I had."

Sephiroth sighed, tearing his gaze away from Cloud's yet already knowing his mind had been made up. He could not turn from the path laid from him no more than Cloud could stand up to the force of the demi-deities. Not with the skill that Sephiroth had been shown. If it was truly his fate to take this course, then he was not one to deny. The Planet needed him, and in response, in thanks for this gift, he would answer her call.

"What about the others?" he inquired tiredly, a way of agreeing to Cloud's request without actually saying so. "Won't they disagree?"

Cloud ran another hand through his hair, a habit Sephiroth now realized was one of nervousness or apprehension. "You let me worry about them. I don't know why, but they trust me. And Aeris trusts you. That should suffice."

The former General nodded at his words, though he knew it was not going to be easy. In many ways, this new task made everything that much harder for him, as if he had to live up to higher standards. He could no longer dwell on his mistakes or his disgust for his family. He had lives that depended on him, an entire planet of them to be exact. Somehow, he had to find a way to subdue the insanities and become a semblance of whole.

He dragged his gaze back towards Cloud, finding that the blond was giving him a strange look, one he wasn't sure how to interpret. Was that pride? Relief? Sephiroth couldn't be sure. But before he could even question, the younger man stuck out a hand, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, Sephiroth accepted the handshake.

"Thank you," the blond murmured. And for some reason, the former General couldn't quite explain it, those two simple words seemed to sum it all up. There was nothing more that needed to be said between them. A handshake, an acceptance, gratitude… and everything was settled.

Sephiroth was going to be the new leader of the reborn AVALANCHE. He knew that Zack would never let him live it down.

----

Bang! Bang!

The sound reverberated around the shooting range as the defenseless targets were rigorously decimated with round after round of precise shooting. Elena was working off some steam and toning her art as well, content to be by herself and relieve some tension. As she cocked her rifle, ready to shoot again, she was reminded of why she had come in the first place.

Tseng. Her dear commander.

After he had last left in a huff, claiming he was going back to the "laboratory" he had actually never returned. She suspected where he went but didn't have any definitive proof. Let the man have his secrets. Sooner or later, it she would be cajoling them out of him and offering up her aid. But for now, she was going to work her irritation out at the man-shaped targets, trying to ignore the way her imagination conjured up a picture of Tseng to overlay them.

Tseng was her best friend… or as close as he could be to one considering it was more commonplace for him to keep his distance, but there were times that he annoyed her to no end. And this was one of them.

She sighed at that thought, firing again.

He could be so close-mouthed at times, and brushing her off like that was a definite pet peeve. The Commander really needed to get laid. And not by some random guy he picked up in a bar either. They had been slowly and diligently breaking him away from that particularly dangerous habit. It was time he found someone worth his time. Someone he could share his secrets and his pain with. Elena could only do and be so much for him. And frankly, it was really beginning to drag her down as well. It wasn't that she would ever abandon him, but it was high time that he did something for himself and stopped being so damned afraid.

Gah.

Bang!

Another hole through the head, nearly straight through the one she had made earlier. Still perfect as always. She rarely came to the shooting range to practice anymore, using it mostly as a tension reliever than anything. Her accuracy was damn near perfect, a fact she was very proud of. Not even Maria, her sister, had been as good a markswoman. Ugh… Maria, probably not the best time to think of her either, not when she was already peeved with Tseng.

Elena sighed and pulled back the rifle, laying it aside for another gun, something with a bit more of a punch to it. At the moment, she really just wanted to destroy something… or for that matter, pummel someone. That would work as well.

It wasn't until she picked up another gun that she heard the sound of booted feet approaching behind her. She easily recognized the gait and familiar cologne, knowing in an instant whom was entering, and a small smirk tugged at her lips. Perhaps she would get to pummel someone after all. She chuckled as she started dismantling the rifle, preparing to end her practice for the day.

"I see you've learned to be minutely quieter in your sneak attempts," she teased without turning around.

There was a snort. "I see you're wit has not lessened in the slightest," came the dry response as a dark, spiky-haired man came strolling up next to her, arms crossed over his chest as he gazed down at the many implements and gun pieces strewn about on the table. He could feel his eyes cross merely looking at them.

"And yet, you're comebacks never cease to amaze me," she replied drolly, making a huge gesture with her free hand. Elena carefully packed the pieces away, ensuring they would work properly the next time she needed to use them. Considering what was going on around them, that would probably be very soon.

Zack frowned. "You're a bit tense," he commented, pushing aside her comments. "Might I ask why?"

"Where's your shadow?" she returned, ignoring his question. "Don't you need your General to protect you?"

He snorted again. "Where's yours? Isn't there a Commander you should be doting over?"

"Touché."

There was a moment of silence. The click of a snap was heard as Elena closed the lid to her carry-all gun case. Zack shifted for a moment before speaking again.

"So… you going to tell me why you were… shall I say, tense?" he asked with a smirk before eyeing her almost lustfully.

She sighed and regarded him with an expression that bordered on annoyance. "Do you want to spar? I'm feeling the need to have a few victories."

Crystalline eyes flashed in competition, even as he grinned, rolling his shoulders in a lazy shrug. "Sure," responded Zack. "A mild workout might be nice." He was not intimidated in the least. He was certain that this time around, the slight Turk would not be getting the better of him. He could throw her teasing out for good.

Elena rolled her eyes. "You're all talk and no action, soldier boy," she retorted, snapping the last gun case closed with a loud click. She turned to look him in the eye, raising a brow. "Ready to get your ass kicked?"

He snorted. "Please. I'm interested in seeing you try."

She nodded. "Good. Leave that toy behind, and let's go. We're going hand-to-hand." She made a half-hearted waving gesture towards the Zanken Sword strapped to the dark-haired man's back.

He shrugged as he unbuckled the sheath crossed over his chest, laying it against the wall. He was certain no one would steal the blade… and if they tried, they would have to be pretty strong to even lift the damn thing. Kudos to them if they actually managed to walk off with it. He could always tease someone into buying him another. Besides, that arrogant blonde was leaving her prized guns behind.

"Hand-to-hand, eh?" he questioned with a raised brow. "You just want to touch me."

Elena rolled her eyes before moving swiftly towards the door. "Yes, please, soldier-boy-with-no-skills, let me shove you to the ground and have my wicked way with you."

"Ooh, feisty. Just the way I like them."

It was the blonde's turn to raise a brow, shooting him a glance over her shoulder. "Like Sephiroth?" It was a question and innuendo both.

Zack literally winced. "Ouch, a shot to my pride," he responded playfully before wagging a finger at her. "Me and Seph are best buddies, but his eyes are for dark-haired men of a decidedly more quiet and introspective nature."

Elena snorted. "I knew it. Both of them are too damn blind and stubborn though. Stupid bastards," she muttered under her breath.

"Ah!" exclaimed Zack as they walked out the door and into the training arena. The sun was nearing its final descent, and the day had gotten significantly cooler than its sweltering heat of earlier. "This must be the reason for the tense lines in your forehead. A certain Commander stretching your patience thin?" he questioned as they strode to the center of the arena, Elena pulling a pair of fingerless gloves from her pocket and slipping them on as they did so.

They squared off, each in their defensive stances as Elena seemed to consider his question. "You could say that," she responded. "So for right now, you get to be my punching bag." She punctuated her words by beginning the duel, almost without warning. One moment she was speaking, the next she was rushing forward, a fierce expression to her face.

Zack was ready, waiting for her to make the first move. She lunged at him with an uppercut, which he easily blocked. Elena shifted her weight, lashing out at him with a high and boot-heavy left kick before quickly swiveling and aiming another angry heel at him. He backpedaled intuitively, reaching out to grab the angry appendage. He pushed it to the side, throwing her off balance as he aimed an open-palmed smack at her shoulder.

She shrugged off the annoying strike, pivoting on her foot to regain her balance before darting forward again, executing a series of quick hand movements, which he was forced to block one right after another. Small though she may be, the sassy blonde was quite quick, and Zack found himself having a bit of difficulty keeping up with her. The dark-haired man was strong, easily capable of snapping the short woman in half, but in terms of speed, she most assuredly outrivaled him. He panted slightly, shooting her a grin over their fists.

"You know," he insinuated. "There are better ways of working off your tensions."

"What?" the blonde demanded over their movements.

Again with the boots, a right leg came lashing out at him. He ducked to avoid it, dropping to one knee to sweep out at her with his free foot. She was well acquainted with this move, however, and easily avoided the kick, attempting to aim a fist at his head.

Elena fell into his trap, realizing this two seconds too late. As he rose to a standing position, he grabbed the attacking limb in his stronger grasp and yanked her towards him. Caught off balance, she stumbled forward until he had grabbed a hold of her other arm as well. Smirking, Zack pinned both wrists behind her back with hands, though the end result had them in a… precarious position.

He was pressed up close to her body with her bent backwards and their faces almost inches apart and her hands bound behind her back. Either she had been ridiculously easy to defeat, or she had wanted to lose. Zack couldn't really be sure, but he found he quite liked the feeling of being this close the hot-headed blonde. She was panting slightly from the exertion, her face flushed with both exercise and something else. Desire? Anger?

Only one way to tell.

"I usually find that rolling around the sheets clears away all aggravation," Zack taunted before leaning forward and closing the short distance between them, sealing up any retort she could have made with his lips. Elena tasted crisp, like the air after a storm when the rain had fallen in thick torrents, coating everything in a fresh layer of water. Almost immediately, her lips parted to allow him entrance, their tongues continuing the physical duel.

He stroked along her inner crevices, sliding his tongue along hers and tasting every inch of her mouth. They shared the same breath for several movements as he ravaged her with his lips, Elena giving as good as she got. Despite their awkward position, she managed to move against him, pressing her lips forward and trying to control the kiss. Her boldness set a fresh wave of arousal through him, and without thought, a slight growl of desire bubbled up in his throat.

She was hot, like a stoked fire and in no way did she shy from the kiss. Only the need for air separated their hungry movements, and when they pulled apart, he was not surprised to find that the blonde was grinning, brown eyes already darkening with lust.

"Well, soldier boy," she commented slyly. "Looks like you got some guts after all." With that said, she leaned forward and kissed him again, almost biting his bottom lip with the force and esurience behind her move.

He released her wrists, cupping her chin and directing the kiss with one hand, determined to take back control. The other he wrapped around her back, pulling her body against him fully. But as he said before, she was feisty and refused to allow him domination. The Turk balanced herself carefully on one foot before taking a knee and rubbing it seductively along the inside of his thigh, not quite tall enough to rub against his swiftly swelling groin, but her point was well made.

Elena took full advantage of the fact that her hands were now free. She snaked her palms between their bodies, running her fingers over his shirt-covered chest before heading further south, slipping them beneath until her hands were splayed over his flat abdomen and across his heated skin. He made a growling sound deep in his throat, breaking off their kiss… only to attack her neck with voracity, nipping and sucking at her fair skin.

"Perhaps we should… take this indoors," the blonde gasped out, falling deeply under his erotic spell. Judging by the arousal she could feel pressing against her, he fared no better. She always thought that the dark-haired man was sexy but had been waiting for the right opportunity. She didn't need someone shy.

"Mmm," Zack mumbled against her neck, tongue curling about a particularly sensitive spot for her. The hand at her back pressed her closer as fingers worked to untuck her shirt and splay across her skin. "Where?" he managed, the blood rushing to his groin affecting his coherency.

She bit her lip in consideration, barely able to think straight with the desire that was rushing through her. Elena's hand roamed up his stomach and chest, smoothing over muscles that were hot and firm.

"Showers?" she somehow gasped out. She knew by habit that they were mostly empty by this time of day.

He made noise deep in his throat again, and she could only assume it was an affirmative. Another lick across the hollow of her neck, and suddenly, Elena found herself hefted up as if she were nothing more than a sack of grain and slung over his shoulder.

"This… is very undignified," she protested, though she was laughing as well. It was erotic that he wanted her that much.

A hand rubbed over her exposed bottom where he squeezed the plump flesh once. "So is an erection hard enough to drive through concrete," he replied huskily. "Which way to the showers, woman?"

She laughed lightly, not minding the odd position quite so much. It did after all give her a great view of a firm backside. "The door there… to your right," she mumbled, hoping his superior SOLDIER intelligence would help him figure it out. Obviously, it did, and moments later, they were strolling quickly across the abandoned courtyard. He threw open the door to the locker and shower room and stepped inside.

"You wanted me that bad, soldier boy?" she couldn't help but tease as he didn't even pause in the locker room, making straight for the showers on the other side.

He chuckled. "I think I have a masochistic side," Zack commented. "Otherwise, there's no way I can explain this attraction to you." His words echoed around him in the emptiness of the adequately sized shower room.

"Ooh, big word," the Turk teased as she found herself being lowered to the ground and immediately pressed up against a wall directly beneath a showerhead. Without them having to press anything, the water started, the automatic sensors working for once. It figured.

But he quickly silenced her, pressing his lips hungrily to hers at the same moment that one hand made short work of the buttons of her shirt, pushing the dampened dress shirt aside and revealing the lavender, lacy bra she wore underneath. Elena refused to be submissive, however, and started working on his dark pants, even as he swept a sword-calloused hand over the flat of her stomach.

Clothes began to fall off around them as they shamelessly groped one another, exposed breasts and silken lengths. It was remarkable how easily they ignored the water sluicing around them, soaking their hair and clothing, the heat from it creating a fine mist in the locker room.

Nor did they seem to notice that they had been seen either. Rude and Aeris, who happened to be looking for the each of them singularly, had decided to search together. The sound of the running shower had them peeking into the shower room, but one glance had them quickly deciding they would try to talk to their friends later. Aeris had giggled as they departed, while Rude somehow managed to remain stoic. That was more of Elena than he had ever wanted to see. It was like looking at his sister or something. The two voyeurs disappeared without a word, leaving Zack and Elena to their business.

It was quickly becoming hot and heated within the shower room. Elena's pants lay in a soaking pile at her feet, clad in only the remains of her undergarments. She couldn't even remember when they had kicked off their shoes, not that it really mattered. Not when Zack's pants followed hers to the floor and she had her fingers wrapped around him.

"Zack," she moaned, her voice pleading.

He made a hungry noise in the back of his throat. "You taste good," he mumbled, dragging his tongue over the swell of her breast and up her chest. He licked at her collarbone before swiping the appendage in the hollow of her throat and kissing at the base of her ear. "Sweet…"

Elena, however, was getting impatient. She released her hold on his shaft, much to his chagrin before reaching up and entangling her fingers in his spiked hair. Using a small bit of force, she dragged his head up so that she could look straight into his eyes, desire spiking through her at the darkening cerulean orbs that were heavy with lust.

"I've not been dancing around you to wait this long," she growled. "You can whisper sweet nothings all you want later."

He grinned. "No wine and chocolates for the Turk?" he teased, moving closer to her so that their bodies were pressed together tightly. He undulated his hips, rubbing his groin along her belly and slipping a knee between her legs. She parted them willingly, sliding her other hand along his abdomen and wrapping it around his back to draw him closer.

"Later," she affirmed huskily. He chuckled and slowly drew back, only enough distance to remove his water-soaked shirt and allow her to extricate herself from the tangle of straps and cloth from his hurried attempt at removing her shirt and bra.

Suddenly, a look of surprise crossed into his face. He made a show of patting down his body and staring down with regret at his pants before giving her a hopeless look, one that she could interpret instantly.

The blonde grinned. "Didn't Sephiroth teach you boys to always be prepared?"

Zack ran a hand through his black spikes. "Eh… Do you always do what Tseng tells you to?" he teased in return.

"Point taken," she responded before grabbing his arm and pulling him towards her, an almost lecherous grin on her face. "No worries. I've got it covered." Zack pressed up against her body, their bare limbs intertwining beneath the soft fall of the shower, water still warm. His hands fell to both sides of her body, tracing along the length until they settled on her hips.

In an unspoken agreement, he lifted her up at the same moment that she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pressed her back up against the wall, pinning the blonde between him and the tile of the shower. She wrapped her arms around his neck, darting her head forward to kiss him soundly, her lips nearly devouring his. Zack was pressed to her and slowly into her heat. She gasped as he grunted low in his throat, quickly setting up a rhythm that the both of them enjoyed. Hands roamed and lips and tongues danced. Gasps echoed around the shower room, still miraculously empty, and the steam from the water created a slightly encloaking mist.

Heat built in their bodies, shivers racing across skin until orgasm raced over them both, nearly in the same instant, a great rush of pleasure that caused them both to shout wordless cries of satisfaction.

As the last tremors faded, the only sound that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the soft fall of the water from the shower. Their limbs shook slightly from much needed release, and their bodies were covered in sweat, despite the water streaming down them.

After a moment, Elena was the first to speak. "Not bad, soldier boy," she commented, squeezing his shoulder with her hands.

He laughed lightly, looking up with eyes still hooded with lust. "That's the best you can do?" he questioned, slightly hoarse. "Not bad?"

She raised a brow, slowly extricating herself enough from his grasp to slide to the floor, his spent shaft sliding out of her as she did so. "Can't let your ego get too big otherwise your head would swell."

"My ego?" he questioned, trailing one hand down her side. For such a spitfire, her skin was very soft to the touch, almost like silk. "Speak for yourself, Madam Turk."

She laughed. "Very well then, Zack," she responded, putting emphasis on his name as she raised a brow. "I might be persuaded to change my opinion…" Elena gave him a seductive look, her meaning clear.

The dark-haired man laughed as a hungry gaze took over Elena's brown eyes. It seemed they were a perfect match for each other. "Can you handle it?" he questioned, tone throaty.

A provocative grin was his only warning before the blonde Turk pounced.

---

Umm… Surprise?

Lol. That was my first het lemon… so how about leaving me a review, ne?


	54. Brother, Dear Brother

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers and all those who have me on their favorites or alert list! I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 54: Brother, Dear Brother**

They hadn't spoken since their argument, a fact that Vincent was finding hard to accept. He was used to Cid constantly badgering him, goading him into speaking and not letting him brood on his own. So this silence… it hurt. Almost like something tangible. While they flew to their destination, he had hidden in their shared quarters. The blond piloted himself, having dismissed the rest of the crew, giving them a few days off.

After an hour or so, Vincent had ventured out into the bridge with a vague idea of perhaps apologizing. Yet, once he was actually standing there, he lost all nerve and only stood in the background, silently observing the still tense pilot as he steered his baby towards Costa del Sol. It was strange for him to think of Cid as being from the beach town. He kept thinking in his mind that the blond belonged in Rocket Town, even though he was aware that it was a particularly new settlement.

The gunman concluded after much solo brooding contemplation that he still did not understand what had come over the pilot: all the words that had been thrown out, the accusations, Cid's obvious pain… as well as the own aching inside of him. There was a problem, something serious, and he didn't know how to fix it.

The slight bump of the airship and its decrease in speed was Vincent's first warning that they were about to land, instantly pulling him from his thoughts. He braced himself for it, although he knew it was unlikely to be as rocky as the rookie's attempts, but still, he released a relieved breath of relief when the landing went smoothly. Silence was still between them as Cid powered down the airship, pushing some final buttons and prepping it to stay off line until they returned.

Therefore, Vincent was mildly surprised when Cid was the first to speak, albeit quietly and without turning around.

"I'm giving you a choice, Vin," the Captain softly declared. "It's up to you from this point. You can stay here on the Highwind, wallowing in your broodiness with your precious secrets until there is nothing for us but grief… or you can come with me."

Vincent stared down at the floor, inwardly contemplating what exactly Cid had meant. If anything, he would not stay behind in the hope to delve more into the mystery of their argument. It was obvious that the pilot was hurting, perhaps from more than their lover's spat, and he was determined to be there, despite the confusion in his heart.

"I'm coming, Cid," he responded, finally. He left his response at that, feeling no need to justify his choice.

After a quiet moment, Cid nodded and turned to face him, some emotion swirling in his blue eyes that Vincent wasn't sure he had ever seen there before. "Then, I'm going to tell you this now so that it doesn't come as a surprise. The rest… well, you can see for yourself. But I'm giving you another choice, because this…" He paused, shaking his head as he moved towards Vincent. "I've been estranged from my father – my family – for a long time for many reasons, but the main one is because of my choice in sexuality." He centered his gaze on the ex-Turk, making no apologies for a truth that he would not change. "They won't take too kindly to my lover appearing with me. I can't promise that they will be civil."

Even after all that had occurred, Cid's number one priority was still ensuring that Vincent would not be hurt in any fashion. It was odd how in a roundabout fashion he struggled to protect the ex-Turk. The Captain very well knew the reactions of his family, and he knew the cruel words that they easily spouted. He always knew how very delicate Vincent's opinion of himself could be. In a way, he was giving the dark-haired man an escape, an exit if he didn't want the difficulties that came with being "in love."

In a way, this was Vincent's apology, his unwavering determination to understand a part of Cid's life he had not been privy to before. "I'm still coming," he responded, meeting the blond gaze for gaze.

Cid nodded in response. "Then we should get going," he responded almost gruffly, moving past the dark-haired man and heading towards the exit through the cargo bay. Vincent followed after him, returning to his initial quiet and broody thoughts.

Cid was estranged from his family? From the pilot's personality, he had assumed that he was close to his family. He had an encouraging charisma, despite his coarse language and temper, as well as being an honest character. Most would have never guessed, and certainly, Vincent wouldn't have.

Then again, as he had expressed before, neither of them knew anything about each other. Cid was aware of his sordid past: Lucrecia, Hojo, and all that ilk. But in terms of times before that: his family, his home, where he was born… even the name of his Turk partner, the pilot knew didn't know any of it simply because Vincent had not shared. Nor had the gunman ever thought to offer up the information or ask Cid about his past life, not that they had had much time for such things considering the battle with Sephiroth and his subsequent fall into the Lifestream and disappearance.

His thoughts were interrupted when he noted out of the corner of his eye that Cid had paused by the exit of the cargo room, seemingly waiting for him. Vincent looked up, a question on his face, but before anything could be said, the pilot reached out and grabbed him, bringing their lips together for a kiss that seemed to be meant for reassurance. Although tensing at what his body perceived to be an attack, the gunman quickly relaxed into the pleasing touch and accepted the gentle kiss.

A slightly calloused hand came up, brushing against the side of his face before the embrace was gently broken. Sky blue eyes that were rimmed with fatigue stared at him beseechingly.

"I love you, Vince," said Cid softly. "Don't forget that… no matter what happens today."

In many ways, Vincent perceived those words as both reassurance and a sign that the blond was insecure. Only he knew the true depth of his family's cruelty, and perhaps he was afraid they would frighten his lover away, if their own relationship problems didn't do it first. Or maybe Cid was afraid that Vincent's feelings had faded, even though his had grown in strength.

The gunman nodded imperceptibly, words failing him for the moment. The hand dropped from his face, and Cid turned towards the door, keying open the lock with the passcode that Vincent had finally learned as well. Still, before the pilot took more than three steps out the now open aperture, the lost words returned to the gunman.

He responded quietly, "You still have my heart, Cid. That hasn't changed." His words were honest, spoken straight from the heart. Truly, no one had ever made him feel this way, not even Lucrecia. It was like Vincent had experienced two different types of love in his life, both equally fierce and consuming. Yet, they had a different vigor, a different course.

A half-smile curled onto the pilot's lips, a far more welcome sight than the almost broody expression that had taken over his features, but Cid did not respond. He turned back towards the door, and together the two of them exited the Highwind and headed into the tourist coastal town of Costa del Sol.

Stepping through the front gates, it certainly didn't appear like a town that was attacked by a small troupe of demons. It seemed that the locals had protected their home perfectly. The sun shone brightly. The air smelled fresh, and other than a few barely noticeable burn marks, Costa del Sol seemed untouched. The two walked in silence as Cid led them away from the main portion of town and into the more residential section. This path was lined with huge homes, obviously belonging to the rich and aristocratic, and the gunman was unable to rein in his surprise. There were large, sprawling estates with mansions built of extravagant stone and fountains on the frontal lawn; these were more like the homes of the famous than the typical fare of people living on Gaia. Vincent had never considered his family poor, but faced with the massive wealth in front of him, they would have been considered unfortunate.

Each house was surrounded by a tall fence, gleaming in the midday sun and standing fierce against all trespassers. There was a gate for admittance, some with guards, and some with just a simple locking mechanism. For each residence, the family name was displayed in broad, sweeping, aristocratic lettering above the gate: Buxton… Rawlins… Webster… Tuesti… most names he had never heard before…

Wait, Tuesti?

Vincent frowned in thought, turning his head to look again at the gate when a loud squeal of surprise and glee had him returning his gaze to the front. Cid paused in his walk, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a young child came running towards them, a bright grin on her face. She had her arms outstretched, pale hair streaming out behind her as she did so.

"Uncle Cid!" the little girl exclaimed loudly seconds before she slammed directly into him and wrapping her arms tightly around his frame. Vincent caught sight of laughing blue eyes, very reminiscent of her relative, and Cid chuckled and bent down, picking up the girl and holding her tightly.

"I missed you," the child continued, giggling as she squeezed the pilot tightly. Vincent could only gape in surprise, though he should have expected it considering that they were going to visit Cid's family. He stood a few feet behind the other man, not willing to intrude on an obviously happy moment of reuniting.

Cid's voice came out muffled as he responded to her, but Vincent easily detected the slight hitch in his voice. "I missed you, too, sweetheart," he replied, returning her youthful squeeze with equal vigor.

The little girl wriggled happily in his arms, pulling back so she could see her uncle's face. One hand came up and rubbed at his scruffy beard playfully, even as she frowned, the slight mar wrinkling her otherwise pretty features.

"Why don't you come see me anymore?" she questioned, the pout evident in her tone.

The Captain froze, evidently unsure how to respond to that question without sounding contrary or hurting his niece. He searched for the right words, while feeling a sorrow clenched inside of him at her innocent query. The little ones always suffered with the confusion, especially when the adults couldn't find it in themselves to clarify. Yet, even when he fell silent, the inquisitive girl did not remain still. Questioning eyes looked beyond her uncle, immediately locking on the dark-haired man directly behind him. Vincent returned her inquisitive look with a steady gaze, hoping that he did not frighten her.

"Who's that?" she asked, changing the subject.

A faint smile crossed the pilot's face… and a bit of relief as well. "That's--" However, his words were cut off before he could even speak them.

A voice rang out clear and angry through the air, garnering the attention of all three of them, the child twisting about in Cid's arms to look behind her. "Namine Highwind! You know better than to run off!"

Vincent caught sight of what appeared to be a very angry young woman heading in their direction, dressed in what had to be designer and assuredly expensive clothing. She had the same hair as the young child, though her eyes were an annoyed green shade, emitting her ire as she stormed towards the trio. The little girl frowned, sighed, and pouted, all in the same moment as she reluctantly slid down from Cid's arms, the pilot aiding her movements.

Namine didn't even have a chance to take a step backwards before the woman grabbed her arm, rather viciously, and the child was abruptly yanked backwards. The unnamed female laid a protective hand on what had to be her daughter's shoulder as she took a step backwards, putting more distance between them and the two males.

Her gaze swept over the both of them, appraising them before a sneer took over her features, and she humphed loudly. "I see you decided to show up," she commented, a thin note of irritation and disgust evident in her tone.

Cid's eyes narrowed for a moment, but his words managed to remain somewhat civil, in spite of the suddenly icy tone. "Always nice to see you, Carmine."

Furious green eyes flickered to Vincent, closing to slits when she gauged the distance between he and the pilot. Without thought, she drew Namine closer to her, putting both arms on the young girl's shoulders.

"I see you brought your faggot lover," the woman hissed.

Vincent sensed Cid's ire building before the Captain could even say anything, bristling immediately. His mouth opened to retort sharply, but Namine, who had turned to look up at her mother in confusion, stopped him with her naive words.

"What's a faggot?" she inquired innocently, and Cid had to restrain himself from smirking at Carmine's faux pas.

Carmine breathed, horrified at the word coming from her daughter's mouths. "Namine!" she chastised, accompanying the action with a warning tap to her daughter's lips with two fingers. "Never say that word!" Then, the woman turned her anger onto Cid, glaring heatedly. "I've told you once, and I shall say it again… Stay away. I won't have you filling her head with unnatural things."

Vincent was finding it difficult to remain silent, but before he could voice his irritation, Cid spoke, returning her glare with equal force even as he began to growl deep in his throat. "It's not unnatural!"

Carmine stuck her nose in the air and grabbed her daughter's hand firmly, almost painfully, distinctly ignoring Namine's cries of pain and protest. "I won't even dignify you with an argument," she huffed. "It's beneath me."

With that, she stormed past the two men in the direction they had come, dragging her unfortunate daughter along. The little girl cast a look of farewell back to her uncle, pouting sadly before having to return her attention forward, nearly tripping on her own feet due to her mother's haste.

Cid sighed, shoulder's visibly drooping as depression settled into his eyes. "And so it begins," he muttered under his breath before half turning to face Vincent. "I hate coming here," he went on, pausing and making a gesture towards the retreating woman. "That was the wife of my eldest brother, Percival." He shook his head. "It's amazing. I haven't seen Namine in five years. Yet, she still recognizes me… and misses me as that.

The sorrow in his voice was thick, enough to make Vincent's chest tighten. The usually exuberant and crass pilot was felled by love for his family; it didn't seem right.

"Cid--"

The Captain shook his head, cutting Vincent off before he could offer a word of comfort. "Not yet," he responded, already turning back towards the path, continuing on his way. "You haven't seen the worst of it."

If Carmine was that much of a bitch, Vincent wasn't sure he wanted to know how the rest of Cid's family treated him. One of his hands clenched at his side. He had the feeling that he would be spending much of the day trying to restrain himself from hitting someone. He wasn't saddened by their words as much as furious at them. Cid had nothing to worry about in him fleeing. It was more like he would have to restrain his lover from attacking his family.

Ironically, it was the very next house that seemed to be Cid's childhood home. The wide sweeping gates were lying open, probably because of the influx of family that was arriving due to the funeral, so the two easily stepped into the property. As they walked, Vincent could see a distinct tightening of the blond's jaw and his shoulders, as if he was preparing himself for something he already knew was to come.

A ridiculous ten-minute hike later finally found them standing at the front door of the extravagant and elegant mansion, which had to have been at least four storeys high. It was built of scarlet brick with ancient Gothic style architecture, so the broad, sweeping home had the look of something that was both ageless and brand new (1). Even more interesting was that instead of walking right in, Cid lifted the huge brass knocker, a low and dull thud echoing around them.

He exchanged a glance with the ex-Turk. "This is it," he uttered before turning his attention back to the door.

Seconds later, it was opened by a wizened man, who getting on in his years and who was dressed in a black suit with accompanied tie. His clothes were properly pressed with nary a wrinkle, but his eyes were kind, belying his almost military appearance. He bowed at the couple, opening the door enough so that they could enter at the same time.

"Master Cambridge," the elder man intoned. "It is good to see you home."

The gunman blinked.

Cambridge? Vincent could only assume that was Cid's true name. He could see why the pilot would adopt something different.

Cid inclined his head. "Thank you, Geoffrey. You have been well?" The pilot easily walked across the threshold into his childhood home, Vincent following closely behind and, for the moment, feeling just a bit like luggage.

They stepped into a large foyer that was so open that they could have easily thrown multiple parties and had room for everyone to stand and dance about. Above them hung a huge chandelier that was made of gold, casting a soft glow down on the rest. In front of them, an extravagant staircase, easily wide enough for ten people to walk abreast, led straight upwards, branching off into two curving sides and leading to the left and right. And descending these huge and carpeted stairs was a man who looked remarkably like Cid Highwind… should the pilot ever choose to grow out his hair, shave his beard, and dress far more pompously than his typical fare.

One tanned hand held onto the railing as he descended, a distinctly unpleasant look on his face. "Cambridge, I am displeased that you disgraced us with your presence," he commented, gaze flickering from the Captain to Vincent with an intent murmur of disgust.

Cid sneered, a hand unconsciously fisting at his side. "Then what the fuck d'you call me for, Percival," he demanded, "if you didn't want me here?"

But the man ignored his younger sibling's statement, instead shifting his entire gaze to appraise the ex-Turk. "And you brought your lover." He sniffed disdainfully as he returned his cold stare to Cid. "Father would not be pleased, and I ask you, please do restrain your vulgarities in this home; you are, after all, a Highwind."

"Well, that doesn't matter now that dad's dead," retorted the pilot crossly.

"Father is not dead," Percival responded coldly, coming to a stop at the base of the stairs. "He is dying. I deliberately had Mrs. Alexander misinform you."

Cid furrowed his brow. "Why? What's the fucking point? Dad doesn't care."

"I do not understand it myself. For some reason, Father wished to speak with you before he passed." The man seemed distinctly unhappy about this prospect. "Even now, he lies on his deathbed awaiting you."

Vincent could see it, though he was certain it was unintentional. A brief hope flickered in Cid's eyes. Perhaps it was a desire for some sort of retribution between his father and him. Maybe the elder Highwind wanted to make amends.

"He asked you to call me?" The incredulity in Cid's voice could not be mistaken, nor the unconscious way he lowered his tone in surprise.

Percival sniffed. "He requested that the moment you arrived that you speak with him…" He narrowed his gaze, looking directly beyond Cid. "Without your homosexual tagalong."

"He's coming whether you like it or not, Percy," the pilot retorted. "I don't have to have your damn permission. This isn't your house yet!"

His lips became a thin line. "I told you not to call me that," he stated shortly. "Still, do as you wish. Father will be the one to reprimand you, not I."

"Tch. Are the others here yet?"

Percival lowered his head. "Yes, they were here days ago… as you should have been, but as it were, we did not have any way to contact you." He sniffed disapprovingly. "Father is in his room. Frederick and Millicent are on the death watch. Of course, Madame Cordelia has not left her husband's side." He narrowed his gaze on Cid, as if about to issue an order. "Do not upset her. She is going through a great sorrow." He moved to pass them, eyes flickering to Vincent as Cid barely controlled his anger.

"At least, you look somewhat like a woman," the older Highwind commented. "Perhaps Father will be fooled." With that statement, Percival nodded his head towards Geoffrey, and the two of them headed into a different part of the home.

Vincent was forced to bite back a vicious retort, unwilling to make the situation degenerate any further and having much more pride in himself than that. He did not want to sink to their level. On the other hand, Cid gritted his teeth and promptly attempted to ignore his brother, already heading for the stairs and causing Vincent to follow him.

"My brother is charming, don't you think?" he commented with a shake of the head. He didn't wait for the gunman to answer. "Frederick is my older step-brother. Millicent is my younger half-sister. I had another brother, Reginald… but he's gone."

"Gone?" Vincent queried, furrowing his brow.

The pilot waved off the question. "Cordelia, my dad's replacement wife, is just a money-hungry whore. She used to be best friends with my mom, but the moment my mom was gone, she strolled in and latched with her claws, and I'll be damned if everyone didn't fall for her. Except me. I saw through that phony act in an instant."

At the divide, Cid took the stairs to the right wing, seemingly easily remembering his way, though he had conceded it had been some time since he had been home. It seemed some things were rarely forgotten. The opulence around him drew much of Vincent's attention, even as he listened to the story of Cid's childhood as told by the man himself, and it was took a great deal of control for the gunman to simply calm the righteous anger building inside of him. Family was not supposed to act that way. Family was supposed to be the only people someone could trust, the ones to turn to in hours of need with an acceptance that defied everything. That Cid should be denied was inexcusable… as was the behavior that Vincent had witnessed. He idly wondered if there was anyone of the Highwind ilk that was even remotely decent.

They continued to climb the surprisingly long staircase, the Captain having lapsed into a silence, finally reaching another extensive hallway that jutted out far to the right. Vincent could only assume that the same structure was mirrored on the other side. To his right, above what would be the foyer area on the previous floor, was another staircase. Cid ignored this staircase, however, turning directly into the hall, Vincent quietly trailing after him. They passed several closed doors, as well as a number of painting and other artworks. Taking this in, Vincent came to the conclusion that Cid would have never been allowed to run around and play as a child for fear that he would break something and the wrath of his father would fall down on him.

Five minutes later had them standing outside a slightly ajar door, the low murmur of voices clearly audible within. Cid paused, appearing to take a deep breath before slowly pushing open the thick wooden door and stepping inside, Vincent close behind. It was slightly dim inside, the curtains pulled tightly over the windows and the lights above on their lowest settings. The huge, ornate bed in the center of the room had a sole occupant, though others were scattered about the room.

A woman, with the Highwind sky blue eyes and bright Reno-esque hair sat in a chair near the window, watching the bed with a mournful gaze. There was another male sitting primly in a chair at the foot of the bed, grim-faced with his brown eyes also locked on the bed. Another woman was draped across the side of the bed, her fingers firmly clasped about the weak and thin hand of what had to have been Cid's father. There was a third female that was younger than all the others present, wearing a lab coat, currently checking the pulse rate of her patient.

Everyone save the sorrowfully kneeling woman looked up at Cid's appearance, their reactions varied. The man Vincent took to be Frederick glared and returned his gaze stonily to the bed. He assumed Millicent to be the one by the window, who sniffed, her hand beginning to twist and turn in her lap. The female doctor, however, smiled wearily, her amber eyes lighting up.

"Cid," she uttered softly by way of greeting. She laid down her instruments and moved away from the bed, immediately grabbing up the pilot in a fierce hug. "I was worried you weren't going to make it." By her friendliness, Vincent assumed that she was not a member of the Highwind family.

He returned the familiar gesture. "Hey, Reis; how have you been?" he asked in response.

She sighed as she pulled back from the embrace. "About the same. Mother and Father have not been making things easy." She caught sight of Vincent, giving another weary smile. "You brought someone?" she inquired. There was no hint of reproach or disgust in her voice, and for that, Vincent was grateful. He would have to think ill of such a seemingly kind female.

Cid nodded. "Hai. This is Vincent."

The gunman reached forward, shaking hands with her. "To meet under better circumstances would have probably been better," he commented softly.

"Assuredly so," Reis responded, clasping hands with him. "Though I am glad you could be here for Cid." Her voice lowered so that the others could not hear, her eyes flickering about. "They will not make things easy for him."

"So I've noticed," Vincent returned.

"If you are going to barge in here unwanted," Frederick spoke up icily, inviting their attention. "Then, it would be respectful of you to speak to Father first, Cambridge," he chided, brown gaze shifting to them for only a fraction of a second as his hands tightened on the arms of the chair.

Reis exhaled and pulled back from the two of them, shaking her head as she mouthed "I am sorry" to Cid and returning to her vigil at the eldest Highwind's side.

"My dad requested my presence," Cid retorted sharply. "As far as I see it, you are the intruder." With that, he moved forward, to the side of the bed where Reis sat as opposed to where the older woman, Cordelia he assumed, clutched at his father's hand. From his stance, Vincent could see that the older man's eyes were open and were a shade of green very different from Cid's. In fact, the pilot did not much look like his father at all, beneath the scruff anyways. Perhaps he took after his mother.

He waited in silence, while Cid knelt at the side of the bed since there were no more chairs available. The ex-Turk didn't even try to eavesdrop on the pilot's conversation with his father, though by the expressions on both of their faces, it wasn't a renewal as Cid had hoped… or even an apology. Sorrow and anger both darkened the younger Highwind's face even as the elder seemed to be giving a stern rebuke. He could see the Captain's hands curling into fists, even against the white of the sheets beneath him.

A slight clicking noise had Vincent's attention momentarily diverted, eyes shifting to the doorway where Percival and another unknown female entered the room. Vincent racked his brain for another name, but Cid had not mentioned another woman, unless this one was Millicent and the other by the window was someone else entirely. Regardless, he mutely watched their entrance, noting that Percival refused to look at him, while the young lady seemed to make it a point to glare.

The Highwinds were such a lovely and respectful family.

After a moment of everyone silently watching Cid carry on a quiet conversation with his father, the pilot finally stood, some fury evident in his movements as he turned his back on the bed and headed back towards Vincent. The look on his face was one the gunman never expected to see… almost one of defeat. He was just about to question Cid on this when "the bastard", aka Percival, decided to say a few choice words.

"His last wish was to see all of his children, even you. Yet, you did not have the courtesy to grant him the one thing he wanted," Percival snarled.

"Shut up, Percy!" the pilot snapped, glaring heatedly at his elder brother. "Dad's dying, and the best you can do is attack me?"

Frederick angrily stood. "No, you be quiet, Cambridge. Percival is right! After all that Father has done for us--"

"He's done nothing for me!" the Captain roared before Frederick could even finish speaking. "All my accomplishments, all this, I've done on my own… without the money and without any of your support!" His arguments were punctuated with fierce waves of his hands.

To the side, Vincent noticed the young woman, the one he had assumed to be Millicent slowly rise to her feet, eyes locked on the bed in sorrow as one hand came up to her mouth, but he was quickly distracted when another voice added to the argument.

"How can you say that!" the unnamed female demanded. She stepped further into the room. "Cidrick has always been supportive! To everyone!"

Cid shook his head. "He's not even your father, Adelheid! I don't see how you've a right to be here!"

She clenched her fists at her side, though she was raised too "prim" to ever do anything overtly physical. "I have been more of a child to him, more of a _son_ to him than you ever have! At least, I have not broken his heart."

"If he even had one to begin with!"

"He is your father!" Percival angrily argued. "It is wrong for you to say such things!"

Cid narrowed his eyes at that, taking one step further as he voice dropped dangerously low. "No father would treat his son like I was treated. No father would disown him for following his heart. Nor would a real family either!"

Inwardly, Vincent cheered, although his own anger was rising as well. These people just yelled, screamed, said such cruel things to each other and to his lover, while a man laid on his deathbed… fading away second by second.

"You're the one who betrayed us! By choosing to follow that unnatural path!" Frederick shouted, losing all semblance of a coolly detached aristocrat. "It's wrong! It's sick! It's--"

"What the hell is wrong with you people!" Reis shrieked, her voice rising above all the others as she violently pushed herself to her feet. She glared at everyone around her. "Your Father just died, and none of you even noticed! Not one of you!"

A silence fell, the sound of weeping the only thing that could be heard. Cordelia clutched onto her husband's hand, crying with her face buried into his chest as Millicent sat beside her. She was rubbing a soothing circle into her mother's back, even as tears dribbled down her cheeks from her closed eyes. It was only the two of them who had been paying attention when Cidrick died, not even his firstborn son.

"You bastard!" Percival hissed angrily, directing his ire at Cid before storming out of the room on his own, the door slamming behind him. It was unclear as to why he had resorted to "vulgarities", as he had put it earlier, and why he was so angry when he should have been mourning over his father's death. The silence grew even louder as Adelheid took slow, steps towards the bed, gasping softly when she confirmed the diagnosis of the doctor, falling to her knees at the end of the bed. Although Cidrick was not her true father, only her uncle, he had always taken care of her as one of his own. She loved him like her own deceased father, just as she cared for his sons and daughter as siblings.

Frederick's eyes darted from his father to his younger step-brother before he snapped angrily, "This is your fault, Cambridge."

Before Cid could respond, Vincent found he could no longer hold his tongue. He stood up straight and narrowed his gaze, directing it much the same way Reis had, at all those present.

"I'm finding it difficult to believe that you would all resort to being so petty when your flesh and blood lies there deceased," he uttered coldly.

"Shut up!" Adelheid yelled from where she knelt on the ground, twisting her body so that she could scowl at Vincent. "No one asked for the opinion of an unwelcome queer!"

Cid growled. "Don't talk to him like that! You have no right to--"

"No!" Frederick interrupted, waving his hand in a slashing moment. "You are the one that has no right. Coming here out of nowhere – I don't care if Father called you – and then bringing that thing along! The least you could have done was pretend to do as he asked, even if it was a lie!"

"I didn't come here to please you!" the pilot shouted in return. "I thought he was already gone!"

Silence fell at his declaration, as horrible as it sounded. Vincent knew that Cid didn't mean it the way it came out, but either way, the damage was done. Adelheid gasped, but it was Millicent who responded, looking up with a fierce glower.

"Then why bother gracing us with your ill presence!" she snapped. "You could have saved Father the grief. He could have lasted longer!" Her eyes were red-rimmed, face slick with her tears. She obviously cared for their father very deeply as she was also one of the few to even notice when he passed.

"Because mom would have wanted me to," Cid vented in return. "That's the only reason I came." One hand came up, gesturing wildly towards them. "Not for you! Not for him! And not for the damn money either!" He pointed to each of them before waving his hand to definitively encompass the wealth of the Highwind family. His breath heaved, coming out in ragged gasps and obvious pain. Although he claimed Cidrick had hurt him in many ways, the pilot still considered the man his father, and the passing of the man was still painful. The Captain hadn't even been given the time to grieve before the accusations started.

The expression on Cid's face was one that Vincent wished he had never seen as it did not suit the Cid Highwind that he knew at all. Familiar blue eyes dropped to the floor, an attempt at hiding the evident pain within them.

"I've only ever wanted one thing from Dad… and his money is not it!" The last came out harsh and haggard, like it was torn from his throat as his fists clenched so tightly at his sides that Vincent feared his nails would draw blood.

Again, silence fell… sharp, bitter and acrid.

It was the doctor's voice who broke it this time. "Get out," came the order, quiet and cold.

"Who do you think--" began Frederick, but he was quickly cut off.

"I'm the doctor here," she continued. "And as such, everyone is to vacate this room immediately. I'll not have you arguing over this man! Fight elsewhere and leave those who are grieving to their tears!" Reis pointed to the door as she did so, the firm look in her eye stating that she was not going to be denied.

Strangely enough, no one else thought to protest. Cid was the first to head to the door, spinning on his heels and yanking it open violently. Vincent trailed quickly after him with the others following behind. The pilot paused for a moment in the hall, giving the gunman time to move past him, but at that moment, the rest of his family members piled out as well. Making a decision, Cid began to move down the hall, attempting to put distance between them.

Predictably, it was Frederick who opened his mouth. "Cambridge--" he started.

Cid paused, turning to look over his shoulder. But instead of a fierce glare of hatred, there was a deep sadness, as if he had wished for something better but ended up with the bitter fruit.

"I've come to say what I had to say. I'm not staying to hear you squabble over his money or degrade me either. I don't care what you do with my inheritance, if I have any. I don't fucking want it." He left no room for argument with his words as he twisted back around and continued forward, the gunman walking right beside him. The couple left behind the blond's siblings in shock.

And it wasn't until they got to the staircase that Vincent found his words. "Are you sure that is alright?" he asked quietly. "Leaving now?"

The pilot shrugged, idly reaching into his pocket and shaking out a cigarette. He lit up as he stared up at the ceiling, a strange gleam to his eye. "I wasn't lying. I don't give a shit about the money," he responded equally softly. "I'll still come to the funeral tomorrow… though probably from afar. I've had about enough of the Highwind brand of love for today."

Vincent couldn't blame him, nor did he have a verbal response to that. Instead, he reached forward, grasping onto the pilot's free hand and twining their fingers together. It was something he probably should have done a lot sooner. He squeezed comfortingly but didn't let go, wanting to show the other man that despite his family, he still cared… he still wanted to be with him.

He remembered Cid's words about it not being easy for him to love, and now, Vincent understood why. The pilot had probably never had a good example from his family, and it was almost a miracle that he could recognize the emotion. There was so much Vincent had not known, enough that he felt guilty for pushing Cid to reveal the things he wanted to know. And yet, they still hadn't made up from their fight. The ex-Turk vowed to rectify that as soon as possible, probably the moment they got to the villa that Cloud had said they could use. He was going to corner the pilot and demand an explanation.

Even if it took him all night.

------

(1) Though "Gothic" is an Earth term, it also applies to that period of time about two-hundred years ago on "Gaia."

You're probably wondering... why? Cid? From a wealthy family? You've got to be kidding me! Trust me, I didn't just pull this out of nowhere. My beta and I actually came to a logical conclusion about this. Curious? Just ask, I'll be happy to explain.

Thanks!! Review please.


	55. Raging Seas

Warning: Heterosexual smutiness, not quite sex but getting there! Definitely not chaste!

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!

**Chapter 55: Raging Seas**

It was quiet, calm, a generally peaceful evening, or so Yuffie noticed as she sat in the sun room with her father, the two of them sharing a cup of tea. She and Nanaki had been in Wutai for two days and were planning on leaving the next morning since she had made certain the country was doing fine, even though she had not been there.

After their arrival, Uryuu had taken them to the palace, inspiring the ninja's ire the entire way. Her fiancé really had a knack for getting under her skin very easily. By the time he finally dismissed himself, she was ready to tackle him to the floor and pummel the ignorant and self-arrogant lord into the ground. If it hadn't been Nanaki's calming presence, she might have done so.

They spent the better part of the past two days just wandering around Wutai, inspecting the repairs, assessing the damage, seeing if they could find any information on Balaam. The two had scoured the rather large island through and through, Barinthus and Suzaku accompanying them. They had even ventured into Deep Man's Cave… for old times sake of course.

Nevertheless, they quickly came to suspect that Balaam was nowhere on the island whatsoever, not that they had believed he would be to begin with.

With their increased time together and the fact that Nanaki had returned to his more human form, Yuffie again found her feelings for the demi-human cropping up even stronger than before. Combined with Archer's suggestion that form didn't matter, she wondered if they had even faded or disappeared to begin with. Probably not.

She found herself sneaking glances at him or again admiring his form in battle, not to mention their intellectual discussions or even playful moments of teasing. They had "made up" in a way, and it seemed things were finally getting back to normal, though the physical actions between them had not resumed, a fact which was disappointing. Yuffie found she rather liked kissing him… and being kissed in return for that matter. Though, it made her cheeks burn with embarrassment to even think such supposedly improper thoughts.

And though she avoided Douwe, encounters with him always left her in a foul mood, which Nanaki had usually managed to drag her from. After two days of almost playing hide and seek with both her fiancé and her father, Yuffie concluded that there was nothing more for her to do in Wutai, so she and the demi-human planned to leave the next morning.

At present, her father had invited her for a "father-daughter" tea to supposedly "catch-up on the times." She knew it was a thinly veiled effort for him to convince her to remain with them for longer, probably hoping to endear her to Uryuu… as if that would ever happen. She was angry that Nanaki hadn't been invited, but the demi-human had only shrugged it off, saying he wouldn't mind spending some time in the library. She knew he was a bit of a bookworm and told him to go ahead.

The library itself was at the end of the hall from the room she was sitting in, not that she felt she needed him close or anything. It was the principal of the matter, Nanaki was a guest. A very handsome, brave, intelligent guest. Had she mentioned handsome?

Her father cleared his throat, attracting her attention from her brief divergence into her mind. Yuffie sighed and took a sip of the mildly fruity and warm tea, returning her gaze to her father's as she attempted to sit and not sprawl on the cushions plopped down beside the low-slung table.

"If there is a war, as you say, wouldn't it be better if you remained here… with your people?" Godo attempted to cajole, idly poking at a rice ball, contemplating eating it. His own tea lay untouched on the expensive and delicate dishware.

"I don't see how," she responded easily, laying down the cup with an audible clink and not missing her father's wince. "The repairs are being handled, aren't they? Not as if I'd be better for the task or anything."

Godo nodded. "Yes, Uryuu is doing a fine job overseeing all reconstruction and leading the task force. He has been irreplaceable in Wutai's hour of need."

Inwardly, Yuffie snorted. Irreplaceable? Right. Douwe was only working to further his own ambitions. It wasn't as if he would dirty his hands and actually help build something himself or donate his family's money to the rebuilding. It was a "princely" thing to overseer, explaining why he had volunteered for the job. He probably thought he was practicing for the future.

Feh.

She couldn't quite express just how much she hated her promised. He was rude, arrogant, selfish; she could go on and on, but that would only serve to make her angry, and she didn't really feel like arguing with her father or losing her temper, not when she was only going to be leaving in the morning. It would be nice, if for once, she and Godo were on good terms.

"See?" she forced out, the compliment like ash on her tongue. "You're doing fine without me."

Godo eyed her disbelievingly, tapping one once-manicured fingernail on the table. Due to recent battles, however, it was now cracked and chipped. More is the pity for him. He should see the state of her fingernails. They looked nothing like a lady's, nor would they ever if she had her way. It was far more interesting to go materia hunting then to sit about and discuss trivial matters.

"Yes," he agreed. "Thanks to Reno, Wutai was saved. Did you know I officiated their wedding?"

Yuffie's heart sank. She knew where he was going, but she fell for it anyways. It was to come sooner or later, and at least, she would be able to make her feelings known. "I was aware of that. You are the most influential person in Wutai right now, after all," she mumbled in response.

His gaze centered on hers, locking as he reached down to finally wrap his fingers around his own tea. He sipped cautiously and silently as if plotting his attack before mentioning, almost casually, his first move. "When are you finally going to come to your senses and marry Uryuu?"

"I'm not," she stated bluntly. "I haven't wanted to for some time now." She left it at that, hoping but knowing he would not drop the subject.

Another polite sip before the tea cup sat itself down a plate with nary a noise. Godo folded his hands in his lap. "You are the last in the royal family," he commented sternly. "It's time that you produce an heir; otherwise, the line will fall."

She sighed, resisting the urge to rub her forehead. "I don't want to get married, and I certainly don't want to marry Douwe."

Godo raised a brow. "And why not? He is a perfectly respectable noble of Wutai. The people expect you to get married, Yuffie, and it seems that Uryuu is a likely candidate."

"Likely my ass. The people wouldn't give a flying fart in space if I got married," she retorted sharply, unable to help the slight rise in her voice. "Nor is that pompous bastard perfect or respectable. I'd rather stick my head in a vat of oil."

Her father's lips became a stern line as he narrowed his eyes. "Douwe is both fine and honorable, and you will marry him." It was an order, not a request.

He should have known better. If there was one thing that Yuffie never responded well to, it was a demand or order. She was a free spirit, despite her supposed destiny. She didn't want to be tied down by someone else's demands. She was no servant; yet, he sought to order her about like some slave.

"Who says I will?" she demanded. "You made the choice of him. I didn't. I don't like the idiot; I can barely stand him. We don't even get along!"

"You don't even attempt to, Yuffie," he retorted. "He is hurt by the fact that you brush him off every time. Rarely do you have a kind word."

The ninja snorted. "His acting towards you is laughable at best. Douwe and I have nothing in common. Half the time it is his pride that starts the argument, not mine. Were we to 'lead' Wutai, the country would fall to ruin around us, but we wouldn't even notice… nor would you ever even have any of those precious heirs you care for."

"You wouldn't have to get along!" snapped Godo sharply. "If you would be the pious, dutiful daughter and wife and obey your husband… like I raised you to be, then you wouldn't have any problems!"

Yuffie saw red, anger overtaking her senses. She chewed her lip in aggravation, her own retort coming out before she could stop it. This was definitely not going well at all.

"If you would find me someone decent, I wouldn't have a problem. I'm not some docile servant to cower and obey."

"Decent?" Godo questioned with a derisive snort. "Like that thing you call a friend?"

It was the first time that the Lord had ever referred to Nanaki by anything not respectable, and as such, he caused Yuffie's hackles to rise. She had never thought of her father as being prejudiced before, but perhaps he clung far too tightly to the old beliefs than she had originally known. Some bigotry never faded, despite the relative peace.

Yuffie narrowed her eyes, refusing to allow anyone, even her own father to speak ill of Nanaki. He was the only person who understood her completely, the best and most loyal friend she had.

"Leave Nanaki out of this," she hissed angrily, as she stood, rocking the table and its contents and creating a clattering noise that caused Godo to wince. "I won't have you insulting him!" Her hands had clenched at her sides before she even realized she was doing so.

"He's not human!" her father retorted, rising to his feet as well as he stared down at his much shorter daughter. "I approved of you residing in Cosmo Canyon because I hoped that you would learn something from Bugenhagen that would aid you in the future, not so that you could go gallivanting around the globe with some strange half-breed."

"He's not a half-breed!" she growled. "Nor is he strange either! He's a great warrior for Kami's sake. One of the few that managed to take down Sephiroth if you don't remember!"

Godo's own face was becoming red with his anger. "You are heir to Wutai! I would expect better companions of you! Materia or no, it's time that you learned what is becoming and what is not. Keeping relations with that… that… creature is not one among them!"

"I would marry him over Uryuu any day!" she shouted in return, gritting her teeth with her ire. "He would make a far better leader. Not only is he kinder, but he is smarter and Wutai would do right by him!"

More blood flowed to the Lord's face. "You never obey me!" he argued loudly. "You never do what you are required or fulfill your duties. You will lead Wutai to ruin with your irresponsibility! You and your damn immaturity!"

Never once in her life had Yuffie raised her voice to her father in such a way, but this time, she couldn't help it as the emotions flowed from her far faster than she could prevent. He had insulted her best friend; he was trying to force her into things she would rather not do. In many ways she recognized his attempts at trying to preserve their line and Wutai, but he was going about it completely wrong. Perhaps it was that they were too much alike, the reason for their contrariness and why she was rarely home. Either way, she raised her voice in response.

"I didn't ask for this! I can't help who I am!" she screamed. "If you wanted a calm and collected leader, you should have never exiled Tseng!"

All at once, things took an even worse turn. Godo went completely silent for a moment, a cold anger overtaking him. And when he responded it came out cold, low… almost threateningly daring her to say otherwise.

"What did you say?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes until they were angry slits.

The ninja went quiet, realizing that she had said too much. Her impetuousness had risen up to bite her on the ass once again. She had defied her father twice in the past minute and, in a way, had set herself up for an even bigger fall. She was technically a minor still… he could lock her up if he wanted, not that she couldn't escape. But it was the principal. He was her only other family; she didn't want to alienate him. So she remained silent, lowering her gaze and fidgeting under his relentless stare.

"He is a devil," Godo hissed, continuing in light of her quiet. "An exile. The scum of the earth, a betrayer of Dao-Chao. He is dangerous, a disgrace. The man… no, monster… is an abomination to every--"

"No, he's not!" she insisted, unable to hold her tongue in the face of such slander. She was loyal above all things, despite her immaturity, and though she loved her father, after having met Tseng, she couldn't stand by as he was being spoken ill of. It wasn't in her nature, nor did he deserve it. After all, he had been only a child at the time of the exile. How could her father even say such things, notwithstanding the fact that it was the supposed laws of Dao-Chao? How could anyone even believe it?"

"You would not know," Godo said, beginning to turn purple with his fury. "You have never met him." His words were restrained, barely able to keep a semi-civil tone, in spite of the fact that his one and only child was speaking back to him.

"But I have! And he's a good person!"

At those words, Godo flew into an apoplectic rage, stepping forward against his better judgment so that his leg hit the table, though that did not stop him. Spittle flew from his mouth as his eyes widened impossibly large.

"I forbade you from ever speaking to him!" he uttered in an almost high-pitched voice that belied his fierce anger.

"You really can't stop me, old man!" the little ninja uttered, unable to stop herself from arguing in return. What had begun as an innocent conversation had evolved into another shouting match that had evolved further than had ever gone before. "What are you going to do? Exile me? You can't. I'm the last of the royal line!"

With this last statement, she turned on her heels and stormed from the room, shaking with inner rage and struggling to contain her cries of fury. Her hands were clenched violently at her sides as she put distance between herself and her father before the verbal argument became physical. Thankfully, it had never degenerated that far. She stalked from the room, not even paying attention to her direction or the people she crashed into, merely walking in a blind ire.

Truthfully, unless she murdered someone in sight of a large group of people or exhibit the "witch" trait that Tseng's family had been exiled for, Godo could not exile her. He wasn't of the official royal line, so he was literally only a regent on the throne until she became of age or married and officially stepped into the role. Even if he wanted to remarry and perhaps have more heirs, they would not inherit the throne. Also, Yuffie, under their laws, had every right to speak to Tseng if she wanted. The Lord/Lady of Wutai had full capabilities to speak to those in exile, in case the action might be repealed, though that was rare. In light of this, Godo had forbid her as a father rather than as Great Lord of Wutai.

Urgh!

With an expressive and angry snort, Yuffie came to a halt in her hurried stomping, finding that the she had made her way to the Koi Garden. It was a welcome respite and was thankfully empty as well. She alternated her path and ducked into the gardens, rage still filling her to the brim. The ninja spit and cursed to herself as she paced back and forth across the slightly rocky ground, kicking up the stones unintentionally as she did so. She received only the smallest amount of satisfaction from taking out her rage on them.

They were only inanimate objects after all and not the ones that had inspired the ire to begin with. No… she really wanted something living to pummel, a monster or something similar. That way she wouldn't have any regrets about the damage she caused. Her hands clenched into fists at her side as she gritted her teeth, seething fully at her father's stupidity. He really could be a bastard.

Yuffie was so wrapped up in her angered pacing and cursings of her father that she did not even hear the footsteps as they entered the garden. She was, however, aware of the person when they spoke from directly behind her, calling her name. In her maddened state, she didn't put much thought in recognition, only whirling about and preparing the strike the intruder. Belatedly, she realized it was only Nanaki, but it was too late to stop the intended blow.

Luckily for her, the demi-human was much stronger and faster than her, easily catching her arm before it did any unintentional damage. "Hey," he said softly, pulling her forward slightly so that she stumbled into his arms. "Take it easy there."

"I'm sorry," she said in a muffled voice, wrapping her arms around his body as she spoke against the front of his shirt. He had taken to wearing a t-shirt and jeans, appropriate tail-hole cut out, while they were in Wutai. "I didn't mean to almost hit you."

"I know," he responded with a slight smile as he pulled her directly against his chest, frowning with a realization. "You are shaking."

Yuffie nodded, a small sniffle escaping from her mouth. "Stupid… ignorant… damn… father…" she muttered incoherently, her rage so great that she had only two settings: loud screaming of full sentences or stumbling, quiet scattered mumbles. It left it quite difficult to understand her. And to her horror, she found that she was weeping as well, crying tears of anger. That only pissed her off further.

Nanaki rubbed a soothing motion down her back. "I know," he responded quietly. "I unfortunately caught some of it."

"Nanaki…" She forced herself to look up at him, her big brown eyes watery with her tears and melting his heart in that very moment. She seemed so very vulnerable… so very un-Yuffie. It was endearing. "I…"

He shushed her. "It's okay. I am not angry. I'm fine."

The ninja's head buried itself back in his chest, wetting his shirt with her tears. "He's such a bastard, saying those things. It's not right!"

"I think he's just worried about you and doesn't know how to express it. The two of you seem to have a knack for misrepresenting your true emotions," he attempted to soothe, grinning faintly as he remembered their own brief troubles. He noticed that she was gradually calming, and this caused his own tensions to relax. He didn't enjoy seeing Yuffie distressed. She should be smiling, teasing, stealing his materia, not crying and storming about.

There was a moment of silence before Yuffie sniffed again, this one seeming to be a final and ending sniffle. "I'm sorry, 'Aki," she repeated. "That he said those things about you… and that I was so distant before. I'm just an idiot."

A half-smile curled up at the corner of his mouth as he put a clawed finger just under her chin, directing her gaze upwards. "Hey," he said softly. "Didn't I just say that I was not mad?"

"Yeah," she responded, still looking guilty. Her eyes were so beautiful… he really ought to tell her that.

"Then quit worrying about it, Yuffie." She had finally stopped trembling, he noticed thankfully, though the manly "must-comfort!" gene inside of him was slightly disappointed, but her relaxed against him was far more Yuffie-ish than the anger.

She exhaled even as he wiped away some of the tear remnants on her face with the pad of his thumb, careful of his claw. "I yelled at him this time. We've never raised our voices to each other before."

"You're older, more of an adult now. Perhaps it is because he's beginning to see you as one and does not want to baby you anymore."

"Maybe." She beamed. "Thanks Nanaki. You really are my best friend."

"I'm glad to hear that," he responded genuinely, faintly blushing when he realized he still held a hand to her cheek. Yet, when he looked into her eyes… he found something there, he wasn't sure how to describe it, but it set his own body trembling. He stroked that thumb over her cheek once more. "You have beautiful eyes," he murmured softly as he gave in to the urge he had been fighting down all along.

He leaned slightly because of their difference in height, and before either of them realized, he had kissed her, unconsciously pressing closer. She was warm and soft, unbelievably so in his arms. He slowly and gently pressed his lips to her, asking permission before he slid his tongue inside, tasting the familiar citrus flavor that was quintessentially Yuffie. She eagerly returned the embrace, seemingly longing for it as much as he had.

A supposedly innocent hand crept down his back, a softly exploring caress that was essentially teasing, even as their kiss deepened. Exploratory but bold, the hand moved down his spine. It was tantalizingly seductive, and he felt his cheeks burn, biting back an encouraging whimper. He nibbled lightly on her lips before finding his mouth traveling of its own accord into the sensitive and sweet-smelling hollow of her throat. She must have recently bathed, her scent fresh. He held back his teeth instinctually, content to slide his lips and tongue along her skin. Nanaki was going completely by instinct, having never done this before.

She made a heartening sound in her throat, almost like a purr before that questing hand found the hem of his shirt, diving nimbly below the fabric. Warm fingers splayed across the heated flesh of his back, roaming freely. The second intently seductive hand found its way to his hair, fingers entangling to pull him closer.

He vaguely realized as he continued tasting her sweet skin that this was probably the worst of times to be venturing further into their relationship. Yet, that gentlemanly thought flitted away on wings of teenage hormones, the moment her dangerously seductive hand worked its way from the relatively safe area of his back, around to the front of the more sensitive flesh of his belly.

Nanaki bit back a groan, laving his tongue more across her exposed throat to elicit the same response. Yuffie seemed satisfied with this, applying pressure to his head with her hand. He dragged his lips upwards then in the same moment that fingers crept up his belly, pressing against every muscle of his abdomen. A nimble digit ghosted over a nipple, and he literally felt his insides clench with something, a warmth that spread through his entire body.

So bold! His lips returned to her mouth, hungrily this time as he sought to even things out with the devious ninja. He released her chin, trailing his free hand down and across a clothed shoulder, over the swell of her breast. She shivered, and he noted that fact idly, hand now ghosting down her belly until it reached the hem of her shirt and the small strip of exposed slightly tanned flesh there.

He stroked the pad of his thumb over Yuffie's soft skin, careful of his claws. The sneaky ninja again swiped her questing hand over his nipple, and this time he couldn't restrain the unmanly whimper that escaped from his throat. It was the last straw, his cheeks flared with a mixture of embarrassment and almost innocent desire. His hand dipped beneath the fabric of her shirt.

Her stomach quivered beneath his gentle touch… or perhaps it was his own hand that was shaking; he couldn't be sure, nearly holding his breath. His mind had almost completely melted as they hungrily ravaged each other's mouths, completely caught up in the moment. He didn't even entertain thoughts of carrying it further, simply too enthralled with merely touching her.

The pads of his fingers brushed across her ribs before he was gently cupping the whole of her still covered breast with his hand. He didn't lift the fabric but ran a caress over the swell of scarcely exposed flesh peeking over the top of her bra. He barely noticed his heart was beating rapidly in his chest.

Yuffie whimpered as she pressed her body closer to his, gradually dragging her own hand back down his chest. It emerged from beneath his shirt, patting down the cotton fabric before a finger traced the outside band of his pants. His breath hitched. She wouldn't… She wasn't that bold, was she?

But he never got to find out. In the same moment that a hand innocently whispered across the front of his groin, a loud and livid voice startled both of them, effectively killing the mood. The two hastily broke away from each other, extracting their entangled limbs and struggling to soothe rumpled clothing. It was Godo's voice of all people, who had called his daughter's name in such a distinctly furious manner… and it appeared he wasn't quite yet through.

"I had come out here with the hope that having calmed, we could talk in a more civilized manner," the Lord gritted out, a cold anger taking over what had been a calm expression. "I didn't want my only daughter to leave angry with me, but I see so clearly now. You wouldn't marry Uryuu because you were whoring yourself out to that thing!"

Yuffie went through all the stages of rage so quickly that her face whitened with her fury, immediately taking an angry step forward, one hand clenched at her side. The distinct sound of thunder above was almost as if the very weather was agreeing with her. However, before she could even speak, a hand grabbed hers, tangling their fingers together and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a righteous fury building in the face of her companion.

"You can't talk to her that way!" Nanaki snapped angrily, "Even if she is your daughter, you can't treat people like that. I don't care how angry, upset, or disappointed you are. You know very well how improper your actions have been!" His words were chastising, speaking to Godo as if he were but a child.

The Lord growled. "You have no right to speak to me!" he uttered, pointing a finger at the demi-human. "You who would lay your hands on my daughter."

"It was my choice!" Yuffie argued, speaking up for herself. "Nanaki's my friend, and it pisses me off when you talk about him like that!"

Godo literally shook with anger. "Yuffie! I forbid you from leaving!" he ordered. "Obviously, you have taken all leave of your senses."

"No!" the ninja denied. "It's you who have gone crazy, dad! Why won't you let me make my own decisions for once? About whom I want to marry, whom I want to be friends with… why do you have to control my life?"

Godo narrowed his eyes. "I'm your father. It's my right."

"It's a privilege," Nanaki inserted, "not a right."

"She's still a minor! I have every right to keep her from leaving as well as prevent her from seeing you," he hissed. "Somehow, you've poisoned her mind against me."

"Argh!" the little ninja yelled. "I'm not listening to this anymore!" She yanked on Nanaki's hand, inadvertently dragging him along with her as she stormed past her father. "I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'm coming back!"

Godo thought to protest. "Yuffie!" he called, but she steadily ignored him, stomping out of the Koi Garden and pulling Nanaki along after her. By the fire in her eyes, the demi-human didn't even think to protest.

She dragged him out of earshot and sight of her father, heading for the quarters the two of them had been granted, muttering under her breath the entire time.

"We'll pack and head to Rocket Town," she uttered. "I'm sure Barinthus won't mind giving us a ride. I'm not going to stay and listen to him anymore."

"Are you sure you're okay with that?" he asked softly, stepping up his movement so that he could walk beside her rather than be dragged.

Yuffie snorted. "Perfectly."

Nanaki, however, wasn't quite so sure.

- - -

Leave a review before you go, please!


	56. Its a Wonderful Life

  
(Anima Speaking) 

'Internal Thought'

_Dream Sequence_

**Chapter 56: It's a Wonderful Life**

Cid had been unnaturally quiet ever since their return from the Highwind Manor fiasco. It was unsettling, almost as if Vincent's broodiness had rubbed off on him. He had taken to sitting and staring out the window, face pinched into a frown as he seemingly stared at the beach and water, though the gunman knew that he was really seeing something else.

He hadn't spoken during their brief return to the airship to gather their things or while they had stopped at a food stand for sandwiches or when they had finally settled in, and it bothered Vincent immensely. Something was stewing inside Cid, and he wasn't talking about it, something from that day… and whatever was in the pilot's mind, he didn't know how to approach the situation. Inwardly, he cursed his own inexperience in all "relationship" matters.

He could handle a fling, a one-night stand, but actually being in a real relationship was something altogether new to him. He didn't quite know what to do with a broody, contemplative Cid, so for the moment, there was just silence between them. The pilot stared out the window, while Vincent busied himself doing non-important things: tidying up the room, unpacking their clothes, and the like as he pondered exactly what he should do. He was still determined to find out why his lover was acting so strangely, including the reason behind the fight, but he wasn't quite sure how to do so when Cid was acting so irrational. Vincent didn't want to start another argument.

He was contemplating taking a shower when finally the pilot decided to speak.

"There are very few people that know I come from blue blood," he said quietly, some unnamable emotion thick in his voice. Vincent paused what he was doing, turning so that he could face Cid, although the blond had yet to turn from the window. "I didn't want anyone to think that I was merely relying on my name and money to succeed. I didn't want anything to do with my family in that regards, and there were few outside of Costa del Sol that knew anything of the Highwinds anyway. 'Old blood'… that's what I think they call it."

There was something in his tone, some tone that had Vincent frowning in thought. He recognized it from earlier, and the question that had arisen then now resurfaced. If Cid was feeling talkative, perhaps now was the perfect time to ask. He spoke quietly, however, slightly afraid to start another shouting match when he didn't yet understand the reason why.

"That was a lie, wasn't it?" he asked. "Even if you knew your father was alive, you would have still come because a small part of you still hoped for approval." He knew that he had hit dead on when for a moment the pilot froze, his shoulders slumping visibly.

The blond slowly nodded, voice coming out partially hoarse and thick with emotion. "All I ever wanted was for him to smile at me and tell me that I was still his son, that he accepted me. But even on his death bed, the bastard couldn't say nothing but how I had shamed him and that he hoped by his death I would see the error of my ways." He gave a sardonic and bitter smile. "He tried to blame me for his illness. He said that my dishonor had shamed him to death."

Vincent was quiet for a moment, not failing to miss when Cid's hands slowly clenched or when he fought to rein in his emotions. He had yet to completely face the gunman and was trying to remain locked in his "broody" world. In a way, their positions had become entirely reversed, and Vincent realized that it was up to him to drag Cid from his melancholy, just like the man had always done for him.

He stood, contemplating before finally giving in to his instincts and going with the urge to comfort his lover. He moved to the window where Cid was still standing, wrapping his arms around the blond's waist as he laid his chin on the pilot's shoulder.

"Talk to me, Cid," he said quietly. "Don't pull away."

The pilot snorted inelegantly, making Vincent realize just how hypocritical his words had seemed. "About what?"

The gunman resisted the urge to sigh. "Tell me about your mother," he suggested gently, honestly wanting to know. Cid had never really explained about her or his brother Reginald for that matter. And if Vincent's instincts were anything like he claimed, he had a feeling much stemmed from what he didn't know, especially when Cid momentarily tensed in his arms before sighing loudly.

"She died when I was little," he stated almost flatly. "She and my brother… a car accident. We were… close." Cid shifted his weight slightly, eyes now gazing at some non-existent item on the horizon.

Vincent remained quiet, somehow sensing that the pilot was not quite finished.

"She was the only one who ever believed in my dreams," he added quietly.

"You still miss her."

A hand came up, softly patting the ones that Vincent had locked around Cid's waist. "She wouldn't have rejected me," the pilot explained. "I'm certain she would have accepted me. Mom was that sort of woman. Kind… always smiling. In a way, she held us all together. Dad was an entirely different person with her. After she died… I dunno. Things just changed."

Vincent frowned slightly. "Changed?" he questioned.

"I was always sort of the odd ball out," replied Cid. "Even from the beginning… but it didn't really matter then because I always had my mom. While my brothers chased after my father, determined to learn the Highwind family ways, I was more concerned with my dreams. I wanted to fly… see the stars. It irritated my father. He often complained about it and me, but mom would just smile and tell him to let me be. She was always the peacemaker, even when me and my brothers would start fighting; she was the first to separate us."

The pilot fell silent for a moment, lost to his own contemplations and memories of the past. Vincent didn't speak, truthfully not knowing what to say and unwilling to dissuade Cid from speaking to him. He hoped that he could finally drag from him what was really going on.

"After the accident, dad was really depressed. He had lost both son and wife in that moment, and even though he still had me and Percy… well, the both of us knew that Reggie was his favorite, always had been." Cid sighed as he continued. "Parents always say that they don't have favorites, but it's a fucking crock."

Vincent merely listened, having no experience with that sort of thing before. He was, after all, an only child. He entangled his fingers around the hand that Cid had placed on his arms in a quiet gesture for him to continue.

"It was six months later when Cordelia began to make her move, bringing over 'home-made' desserts and keeping dad company. I hated her even then, especially Frederick. He's only a couple years older than me, you know. And in dad's eyes, I'm certain he seemed like the better son."

"I'm sure you don't mean that."

Cid shook his head, almost violently. "You think that," he replied resentfully. "But I haven't even gotten to the bitter truth yet."

"Then tell me," Vincent urged, a sinking feeling in his belly. He cursed his own intuition for what it was currently telling him. He almost didn't want to hear it, didn't want to know what else his lover had suffered.

The pilot sighed, his gaze falling to the floor. "I was thirteen when my father caught me kissing my best friend…" There was a pause, as Cid seemed to drift back into his memories, perhaps reliving that day. Vincent could feel it in the subtle tensing of the blond's form in his arms.

Finally, Cid shook his head. "Three years later, I left, determined to make it on my own. I just couldn't take it anymore. But like a dumbfuck, I kept returning, hoping that somewhere my father would just want his son back… like that stupid prodigal son story or something."

"That doesn't make you an idiot," Vincent commented quietly.

The pilot's entire body tensed as he pulled from the gunman's grasp, whirling around to face him, frustration and distress evident in his sky blue eyes. "It does make me an idiot!" he countered, face flushing with his anger. "That bastard beat me, every fucking day! 'I'm going to beat the gay out of you, son!' For three years! My own father! He didn't love me!"

Although he had suspected it, hearing the truth didn't make it any easier for Vincent to accept. His breath caught in his throat after hearing what his lover had endured. And he was painfully certain that there was more to the tale, but by Kami, he didn't want to know. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn't want to hear how much Cid had been hurt in the past. He wanted to continue with his new strategy of living for the present and the future. Vincent had learned the hard way that there was nothing gained by dwelling on the past. It only brought pain and misery.

"And I'm beginning to think you don't love me either," the pilot added in a soft voice. His gaze dropped back to the floor.

Grey eyes looked up, stunned as he searched Cid's face for… something he didn't know. Disbelief etched into his features.

"W… what?"

How? How could the blond say something like that? Had he not told him enough? What had he done to make Cid say that? And to compare him to that… that bastard, it left Vincent reeling in the wake of the softly spoken accusation.

"I dunno…. maybe it's selfish of me, but I'm tired of competing with a ghost. And I'm not even going to try. I don't want to fear each day that I'm going to lose the only thing that matters to me." Cid raised his eyes and narrowed them on Vincent, allowing the gunman to see the swirling emotion within. "I want you… all of you no matter what form you're in."

"That's a bit contradictory, Cid," Vincent commented, furrowing his brow in confusion.

What exactly was the pilot asking of him? Was Cid trying to give him an ultimatum? Was that what the pilot was implying?

"To say that you want all of me but then say it doesn't matter what form I'm in… giving me an ultimatum like that. I don't even know what you want from me or what you're asking of me. It's not fair."

Cid gritted his teeth. "It's not fair?" he questioned. "What's not fair is me, roaming Gaia for six goddamned months, looking for you! What's not fair is you taking off on your own, like you always do, to solve your problems and leaving me in the fucking dark! What's not fair is telling me that you love me when you don't even have your heart to give! That's what's fucking not fair!"

Vincent blinked, entirely confused. The situation seemed to have screeched to a halt, reversed, and took off in an entirely new direction far away from his comprehension.

"Cid--"

But he was cut off before he could even continue, the pilot well on his way to another loud proclamation.

"No! I'm not finished, Vincent!" The gunman winced at the use of his full name but didn't speak. "I don't know how you claim you don't know what I don't want when it's so fucking obvious! I want you… apart from her! Every time I think that I might find something, some way to have you to myself, it's always Lucrecia! The woman who abandoned both you and her own fucking son gets more of your heart! That's what's fucking not fair!" His hands clenched at his sides, anxious to hit a foe that was not present, to take out his rage on the one person he hated more than anyone… even more than Hojo.

Vincent was even more bewildered than before. He grabbed the pilot, spinning him around so that Cid was forced to look him in the eyes. He kept his grip on his lover's shoulders, trying to not squeeze too painfully.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, slightly shaking the blond in his frustration. "Why are you acting like this?"

Cid tore free from his grasp, one hand batting angrily at the grip on his shoulders. "You wouldn't take me with you!" he accused. "You never did. You hide and you plot, but you never let me in! No matter what I do, you keep leaving me!"

"Why the hell would you even want to go with me?" demanded Vincent. "You don't know Lucrecia! You don't like Lucrecia! You would have ruined it for Sephiroth. He needed this chance to confront his mother. You would have made it about us when it had nothing to do with us! It's not about you!"

"Because you're my lover!" Cid cried in a raised voice, almost a bit possessively. "I wanted to be there with you when you confronted her. We both know how you react anytime you see that bitch!"

He could concede that much to Cid. Lucrecia did tend to make him both pissed off and upset at the same time, her very face causing him to lose some self-control. But still, Cid was making very little sense.

"You don't own me," Vincent replied, rather exasperated. "You don't have to be around me every second of the day. Even if I'm not by your side, I'm still with you! It's not fair for you to ask… no, demand that of me!"

"You would do it for her," implied the pilot.

The gunman threw up his hands in frustration. "Argh! I don't love her, you dumbass!" Vincent screamed. "I only went because I wanted to give Sephiroth a chance to hate her as much as I do. She used me! She encouraged that madman's sick plans, made me his personal fuck toy and his slave! They ruined me! You bastard, how could you even think that I would love someone like that? How?" His breath came out ragged as Cid literally recoiled from him, something he had never done before. At that, Vincent physically forced himself to take a deep breath, calming his ire and softening his tone.

A sigh escaped him. "I don't love her at all," he said softly, raising his eyes to lock onto Cid's. "I love you and only you."

The other man visibly wilted in the face of his calmness, though he didn't appear any more relieved by Vincent's words. "I… I don't believe you," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. "If you loved me… why would you leave me?" His voice was so unbelievably small, almost childlike, and he very much imagined this must have been Cid when his mother died. His posture, his dropped gaze… it was all the proof that Vincent needed.

The pilot was afraid that he would again lose something precious, that he would be left all alone. And Vincent knew that feeling well, having only recently overcome it himself.

"Well, maybe I did it for you," he responded gently before pausing, the words having come out wrong. "I did do it for you. So you would live, even if it was without me. I realized, somewhere along the way, that my desire to keep my own life had long been surpassed by my fear in you losing yours. Above all things, I wanted to protect you."

"What would have been the point," whispered Cid in response, gaze locked on the floor. "I could never believe you were gone, not even for a moment. I spent every day of the last six months going from city to city looking for you. I… I rarely slept, not wanting to waste the time because I knew, I /knew/ that unless I found you there was no point in living. Captain Highwind died in me, and every day, the rest of me died more, too. Little by little." He raised his eyes. "I wanted you… even if it was only until the end of the world."His eyes were watery with unshed tears, nearly on the brink of spilling over.

Vincent nearly choked on his own at the emotion behind the pilot's words. He reacted completely on instinct, reaching out and grabbing Cid, pulling the blond into his embrace. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. They were both trembling, but still, they clung to one another, both afraid of being alone and abandoned. Strange how in their differences, they were still so much alike.

"I'm sorry," whispered the gunman. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Cid shook his head, Vincent feeling the motion more than actually seeing it. "I should be apologizing," he commented quietly. "For attacking you like that… all because of my damn insecurities." He exhaled slowly. "I just didn't think I could do it. My mom died; my brother died. My father regretted my existence. Archer left, too; it was easy enough to believe that eventually you would do it as well." A bitter and small laugh escaped his mouth. "Even Shera left, and I never thought that woman would ever get over her own guilt. In some ways, you and she are alike, Vince."

"The fault is both of ours," the ex-Turk admitted. "I should have explained better rather than the way I chose before."

"Yeah." A moment of silence fell before Cid momentarily tightened his hold on Vincent, a comforting squeeze. "We're still a mess, aren't we?"

The gunman chuckled lightly. "No one ever said that things would always end completely happily ever after. I'm sure there will be plenty more arguments to come. It's how we handle them that really matters."

"Do you read advice columns or sumthin'?" questioned the blond after a second of digesting Vincent's words. The thought made him laugh quietly. The ex-Turk poring over the Dear Aunt Sue sections in the daily newspaper was an amusing idea.

Vincent shook his head. "That's the last time I try to say anything encouraging," he muttered before stealing a glance out the window. It was still rather early in the night, but the gunman was feeling fatigued both mentally and physically; it would do them both some good to collapse into a bed.

"Let's get to bed, chief."

Cid nodded in response, and several minutes later found them in a darkened room beneath cool sheets, bodies pressed together as they attempted to drift off into slumber. It was quiet and calm, the tense atmosphere completely gone, though both still felt the weight of their guilt. Perhaps it that prompted Vincent to speak. He couldn't be sure. Either way, he felt he wanted to share with Cid what had been given to him.

"My mother died when I was born," he began softly, staring off into the darkness. He could hear Cid breathing behind him but knew that the pilot hadn't fallen asleep yet. "I was raised by her brother and his wife, but I didn't meet my birth father until I was twenty."

There was a pause before the hand shifted around his waist. "Why are you telling me this?"

Vincent shrugged. "Because I wanted you to know… or maybe because I just wanted to tell someone. The last of the people who truly knew anything about me have died and… I don't want to be forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Cid scoffed. "I doubt that will ever happen. But go on. Tell me. I want to know."

The gunman nodded. "I grew up in Junon under the care of the Uesugi's… that's my mother's name. She was Reika… Reika Uesugi."

"Wutaiian," commented the pilot.

"Yes. You'll be interested to know that I knew Archer's mother… and Zack's adopted father as well. They were my childhood playmates. I knew the moment I saw those amethyst eyes that he was Beatrix's son. And I regret not having my memories when the Loire's were so kind as to take me in. Perhaps I reminded Lexas of my younger self when he saw me," Vincent suggested before he shrugged. "I'll never really know."

Cid chuckled. "That's some freaky shit, ya know? You knew my ex's mom, used to be best friends with her. Damn Hojo."

"It was my father that got me into the Turks," Vincent explained. "I happened to walk in on my adoptive parents having a conversation and found out everything. I left home – I was so immaturely angry then – and sought out my father. He was a scientist working for ShinRa then. I didn't know it… but Lucrecia was working for him, too. Grimoire Valentine."

"What happened to him?"

"Died. Some freak lab experiment. I don't really know the details."

There was a slight hesitation in his explanation that Cid didn't fail to catch, but he didn't comment on it either. After all, the blond didn't give full details into exactly what his father's idea of reformation was either. Some things were better left unsaid. Instead, the pilot remained silent, encouraging him to go on.

"To make a long story short, I decided to go into the Turks, and from there, I was given a partner, a man by the name of Raven. He was a nice guy, something one doesn't usually see in a Turk. A brilliant sharpshooter. I quickly rose through the ranks and soon became Commander, making Raven my second. I never returned home."

Cid frowned in confusion. "I can understand why your family wouldn't be able to make a fuss, but why didn't Raven say anything when you disappeared? He was your partner, right?" The moment that the words left his lips, he could literally feel Vincent tense beside him, and an almost tangible aura of guilt began to settle around the dark-haired man.

"He did," Vincent replied quietly. "And Hojo used him as well. Neither of us knew it, but we were sent to Nibelheim because the President was trying to be rid of us. I had angered him by refusing to carry out a mission completely. I didn't want to kill children for the sake of that man's greed (1). It was Lucrecia's job to see if Raven and I were fit for the experiments she and Hojo had designed. You weren't with us at the time… but to get the key to the basement where I had been sealed, Cloud and the others had to kill a monster that Hojo had nicknamed 'Lost Number'. It was what remained of my former partner."

Cid was stunned into silence. He hadn't heard this truth about her yet. No wonder Vincent had gotten so pissed. Lucrecia had never cared for him, and still, he had accused the man of wanting to go back to her. Guilt crashed into the blond with the force of a train, and he cursed himself for assuming so much when he had known so little. Yet, before he could say anything, whisper the apologies on the tip of his tongue, the gunman began speaking again.

"I guess I'm selfish, too," he admitted. "Now, you see it isn't easy for me to say I love you either."

Cid let out a breath of air, unconsciously tightening his hold on. "We're both just selfish bastards," he agreed. He relaxed into the bed, finally able to sigh with relief at the dispersed tension between them. At that moment, he wanted nothing more for the war to be over. They could really use a vacation, just the two of them.

"Let's just get some sleep, ne?"

Vincent nodded nearly imperceptibly, exhaustion wearing down both their bodies. It wasn't long before they drifted off into slumber, content to hold one another through the night.

It came as no surprise to Vincent that he dreamed that night. Revealing his past, their argument, all of his true emotions laid completely bare. To be perfectly honest, he was expecting his sleep to be riddled with nightmares. However, only one came to him, slithering through the shadows and catching him entirely unaware.

_He was in the lab once more, shackled down by his hands and feet to the table. The cold steel caused his skin to goosebump. Yet, it was strange; he was within his body, but he was also without. He could feel the heavy clamp of the restraints and each shiver that wracked through him, but he was also watching from above, seemingly seeing through the eyes of a third party. _

_And then suddenly, Hojo was there by his side, pushing up his spectacles with one finger as he palmed four strange objects with the other. All was silent, save for the steady marble-like clink of the four balls as they struck each other in a continuous rhythm. Vincent's own apprehension filtered through, and he felt it, even as his past self glared at the scientist with… gray… eyes…_

_Sickening dread filled him to the core. He remembered all at once what those objects were for. They were the sealing materia of the Apocalypse demons; he was certain of it. Vincent felt violently ill, sick to his stomach from the very thought. _

_Would he be forced to endure and watch the event once more? _

_It seemed that would be so when Hojo made himself comfortable in a stool at the shackled Turk's side, placing the materia on the hollow of Vincent's scarcely moving chest. He breathed so shallowly, every one like a hot fire from the day's previous tortures. He didn't even want to try and remember what they had been. _

"_Do you know what these are, Valentine?" questioned Hojo with a smirk. "No, of course, you wouldn't." He shook his head, focusing his piercing, grey glare on his pet. "But lovely little things, aren't they?" _

_Vincent didn't respond, not even having the energy to flinch when Hojo traced a finger down the sensitive skin where the bronze metal met the true flesh of his arm. _

_The scientist chuckled darkly at some unvoiced thought that Vincent didn't want to know. "I found these wonderful specimens in the Lost Grounds, quite fortuitous I might add," Hojo continued, not having expected his prey to answer him before. "The legendary four Apocalypse demons, believed only to be myth until now, locked in this materia… this black, tainted materia." He cocked his head to the side, glasses gleaming eerily in the sterile light of the lab. "Perfect for you, don't you think?"_

_Again, the gunman was silent. He was too tired and weary, his soul strained from resisting. At that point, he was on the cusp, teetering on the edge of his insanity with no escape in sight. _

_Then, a flash of silver and a scalpel appeared from nowhere, glinting in the bright light of the laboratory. "I've always wanted to test human/materia interaction. I think I've found the perfect subject." Hojo began to tap the blade of the scalpel along Vincent's body, cutting slices as he did so, as if selecting the most torturous place. _

"_Here? Or perhaps here?" he taunted with more cruel jabs. _

_Vincent attempted to suppress his rising fear but couldn't stop the gradual widening of his eyes. In the scientist's free hand, a syringe filled with a black-tainted green substance suddenly appeared. _

"_Or maybe here?" Hojo inquired in the same moment that he drove the tip of the scalpel into Vincent's flesh, digging down into his solar plexus. He twisted and turned the sharp object around, watching with morbid fascination as blood seeped from the wound. _

_He couldn't scream or breathe, his body arching up off the table. The pain was sharp and throbbing, mindlessly burning. He trembled violently as Hojo idly thumbed the materia one by one into the wound before depositing the contents of the syringe into it with a sickening bubbly gurgle. The mad scientist sat back and watched for a moment as Vincent's body went taut and still, arching off the table like a deranged human bridge. _

_Then came the pain, the flaming, screaming torture. His body twitched and writhed, pulling at his bonds. His head smacked against the table top from his movements, and he could hear them, the voices screeching and taunting. It wasn't even until his throat began to hurt did he even realize he was screaming. _

"_My own precious monster," Hojo commented, his voice slithering in his fascination. "I shall have to thank Gast for his research on the Lost Grounds." _

_Lost Grounds… Barrier Island… the words echoed in his mind already dimming with the fogginess of wakefulness. The Lost Grounds reverberated like Hojo's taunting and cold voice. The demons, demi-deities, had been found in the Lost Grounds. _

_And suddenly, Vincent understood._

He awoke from the dream with startling clarity, the shame from his own ignorance burning through him. How could he have forgotten their original home? It was the perfect place for Balaam to hide. No one knew the depths of Barrier Island. Why hadn't he thought of it before?

The dream, memory… whatever it was, reverberated within his mind.

Then, the arm around his waist tightened as a scruffy chin brushed across his bare shoulder. "You're shaking," the sleepy, slightly rough voice said.

"A dream," Vincent responded, wincing at the tremble in his tone. "Or more accurately, a nightmare."

A gentle kiss was placed on his shoulders as he was pulled into an all-encompassing, warm, protective hold. Warm breath ghosted across the back of his neck.

"Tell me," softly ordered the still sleepy voice.

Vincent shook his head. "It's the past… but I know where Balaam is now."

"What? How?"

The gunman winced, accepting the comfort Cid offered as the nightmare replayed itself once more. "My memory. I remembered where Hojo got those bastards. He's at the Lost Grounds, Cid. I can't believe we didn't think of it before."

He felt the vague stirrings of his animus within him. (He's the demi-god of Chaos, remember? It was quite simple for him to confuse your senses,) Erebus commented.

"I haven't forgotten," Vincent mumbled aloud. The words of the demi-deity reminded him of something, however. He ignored the pilot's confused mutterings behind him and changed the subject.

"Cid," he questioned. "What happened to me after I killed Sephiroth? Did another summon show up?"

The pilot paused for a moment. "Yeah. It was the weirdest fucking thing. Diablos showed up outta nowhere, argued with Chaos, fought 'im and then the both of ya went into the Lifestream." Cid fell quiet, his breath already beginning to even out slightly as he fought the pull of sleep.

'Diablos?' murmured Vincent within his mind.

The previously unnamed voice immediately responded, (Hai, though that is not my true name. Once you learn of it, I will be able to show form. Yet, now is not the time. Rest is of the most importance right now.)

Reluctantly, the gunman agreed. After shifting back into position closer to the already slumbering blond, he closed his eyes and attempted to be pulled into the lull of sleep. He was not disappointed

---

Vincent awoke only slightly groggy, a little perplexed about his location, but a quick glance around fixed that. He remembered that he and Cid were in Costa del Sol for his father's funeral. Yesterday had been hell on the both of them with Cid's rude and taunting family members and then their strange fight. They both needed a vacation, a true one, badly. However, with the threat of Balaam and his war looming, Vincent was well aware that there wasn't time for vacations.

He turned his head to the side, blinking away sleep when he came upon a most unusual and yet… arousing sight. Cid was freshly showered, nothing new there, but also razored as well. He wore a nicely tailored suit that clung to his frame, the color accentuating the bright blue in his eyes. All in all, he looked very fuckable, and Vincent could already feel the rest of his body agreeing with his mind.

He smiled. "I didn't know you owned a suit," the gunman commented, voice still sleepy. He paused to consider, cocking his head to the side. "Or a razor for that matter." Not that he minded the stubble, it was a feeling he had gotten used to and now recognized as something expected.

The pilot laughed, idly tugging at the tie around his neck, which was crooked, but that didn't matter. It looked better crooked on him.

"I don't," he replied, shifting like he was really uncomfortable in his clothing. "This is Spike's. I'm just borrowing it. I'm a bit taller and broader than him." He shrugged. "But thanks to the weight that I lost it fits just fine."

Vincent pursed his lips in thought, feeling another quell of desire rising through him at the sight of the clean-shaven man. "How long until the funeral?" he asked, slowly sitting up in bed and swinging his legs over the side, already pondering naughty thoughts. It may have been the wrong time for good moods, but after their confessions of the night before, a little happiness wouldn't kill either of them.

The pilot shrugged and tugged at the knot on the tie again, probably only tightening it further. "About three hours… I just wanted to make sure it would fit."

The gunman smiled and rose from the bed, feeling incredibly seductive. He had the look of a tiger stalking his prey as he moved close to the pilot.

"Plenty of time," Vincent purred as he draped his body across Cid's back, effectively pinning the man with his arms and weight. He sucked gently on the side of Cid's neck, tongue ghosting over a familiarly sensitive region. The blond shivered beneath them although he also radiated confusion. The ex-Turk resisted the urge to chuckle; it was a bit of payback for the night before.

"Vince?" the pilot questioned.

He smirked bemusedly. "It's called make-up sex, Captain. Haven't you ever heard of it?" Vincent questioned teasingly. He rubbed a hand across the now smooth jaw. "The clean-cut look is a turn on," he whispered, pressing his body completely against the other man, his erection poking the pilot directly in the ass.

Cid moaned against his will, unconsciously pushing back against the thrust at the same moment that a warm and wet tongue slid across the shell of his ear, melting him further. He could feel the tendrils of arousal already curling through him. With the recent events, they hadn't really had much time for intimacies. There were always the others around, and then, his recent… well, insanity was probably the best word for it.

He turned his head slightly, dislodging Vincent's lips from his ear so that they could kiss. He accepted the push of the gunman's tongue into his mouth with vigor, grabbing one of Vincent's hands with his, directing it to the front of his pants.

"It's about time," he growled playfully into the ex-Turk's mouth as slim fingers rubbed across a swiftly growing erection. He pressed his hips back against Vincent's, enjoying the man's swift and lusty intake of breath before their lips crashed together once more.

--Censored because this site is notorious for removing stories and since I would like my readers to not lose this story, I will be safe. Which sucks cause they have some really good conversation in there. Oh well. You know where to find the _good_ version, lol--

Vincent collapsed tiredly on top of him, wrapping his arms around Cid's chest as he rolled to the side. It was quiet for a moment as their hearts slowly came to a more sensible beat, breathing returning to normal levels. The other man had started to rub one spear-calloused finger over the gunman's back. It was peaceful, relaxing… almost relieving.

"I almost wish we could stay in bed all day," the pilot commented softly.

Vincent frowned slightly, unconsciously tightening his hold on Cid. "You don't have to go," he replied quietly. "You have nothing to prove to anyone."

A hand briefly rubbed through his hair, almost an affectionate gesture. "I know. But he is still my father. I'd hate myself if I skipped his funeral."

The gunman sighed. "I know."

---

Despite the sunny way the day had started, it had become perfectly dreary and cold by the time the funeral rolled around. Cid and Vincent stayed away from the main procession, watching from a distance as the family and their friends gathered around the grave of Cidrick Highwind, the elder slowly lowered into the ground. A wind built up, threatening rain, but neither observer moved, Vincent refusing to release the grip he had on the blond's hand, not that it mattered if he did. The blond clutched him so tightly that he started to fear the loss of his circulation.

Only once did they see anyone look up to notice their presence. Percival had sneered, but Millicent, who was at his side, had elbowed him, the sorrow in her eyes evident even to Cid and Vincent from their distance. Reis had noticed them as well, offering up a sad smile before directing her attention to the rites. The holy man, a rarity in the current day and age, spoke clearly over the grave, his voice enough to carry even to the distant observers.

It wasn't long until one by one the Highwind family began to disperse, depositing their own personal flower contribution into the grave that was slowly filling with dirt. Only the holy man and Reis remained when Cid found the strength in his own feet to move forward, one hand clutching a small band of simple purple flowers that were almost crumpled in his grasp. Vincent remained steadfastly at his side, not commenting when the pilot stared silently into the grave of his father. The young lady waited off to the side for them to complete their mourning, a question reflected in her amber eyes.

Vincent noticed that most of the others had laid red roses or white carnations within. Cid was the only one who seemed to bring something different. As the purple petals flittered down, the hand clenched around Vincent's tightened before the pilot turned away, walking towards where Reis was quietly and calmly waiting for them.

"I can't believe I'm the only one that remembered," Cid commented softly.

"Remembered, what?"

The blond sighed, head tilting back as he looked at the grey sky. "Dad was always fond of those flowers. He and mom shared that."

Vincent smiled faintly. "You have a good heart, chief. They were unworthy of that."

"I've been telling him that for years," Reis commented, interjecting herself into their conversation. She stood there, mildly burying herself down into the black coat that she wore over her darkened slacks and shirt. Typical funeral attire.

Cid shook his head and changed the subject. "Your brother is worried about you and your parents. You need to get them to talk to him."

The young lady sighed as the three of them started to leave the cemetery, attempting to ignore the sad rhythm of shovel striking dirt and the sound of it falling to the coffin lid.

"I know, but they are impossible sometimes. They won't accept that brother is in love and that isn't going to change. Why should gender matter?"

"Indeed," commented Vincent. "It shouldn't matter at all." He peered at the young doctor, wondering why she looked so familiar to him.

Reis nodded before turning her gaze on Cid. "But they are doing well? Reeve's happy I hope? Despite our parents' stubbornness."

"Reeve?" questioned Vincent, startled. "You're Reeve's sister?" He looked at her closer. Dark hair, amber eyes… he marveled how he didn't realize it before. No wonder she seemed vaguely recognizable. Yet, she seemed so young. There must be a huge age gap between the two of them.

The young Tuesti smiled broadly as she stepped down the slightly worn path, her destination ultimately the residential area of Costa del Sol. "Yep. You know my brother? Then you probably know Reno, too. They were made for each other," she added with an almost dreamy, fan-girlish sigh. "Our parents don't approve, for many reasons, though they are decidedly nicer about it than the Highwinds."

"They are getting married," commented Cid. "Has Reeve been able to tell you?"

Amber eyes widened in surprise before she grinned even further. "That rascal! Of course, he didn't! Trust Reeve to keep something so important from me." She paused, pursing her lips in consideration. "Then again, judging by that brief attack by those demons the other day, I can guess that all is not well with the world. When's the wedding?"

"Tomorrow evening, oddly enough," input Vincent.

"You should come with us, Reis. I know he'll be happy to see you," added in the pilot. "Reeve's been acting strange lately and the last thing he needs is worry about his family on top of everything else. Damn Reno's got his hands full."

Reis sighed. "That sounds like brother. He's always tried to take everything on his own shoulders." She shrugged, tilting her head back to look up at the dreary sky though a smile broke out on her face. "Alright then," she said cheerily. "That settles it. I'm coming to the wedding."

---

(1) Explained in Episode 3 of Misunderstood if you want to know more.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and feel free to leave me a review! I love feedback!

Also, a few announcements. I will be posting a companion piece to the Shattered Series on my homesite only. It is a CD Track List of recommented listening along with characters and small pieces about them for each track. The link for my homesite is http://crya2evans. On that site you can also find a link to the forum where updates are always announced if you want to sign up for the announcement service there or even leave me your e-mail in a review and I will add you to the announcement mailing list. For those that are fans of my writing, I have original fiction that is slash, het and general if you are interested. The website is http://dracosdebauchery. 


	57. Battle Plans

Thanks everyone for reading! Especially those who have me on their alert/fave list!

**Chapter 57: Battle Plans**

It amazed Sephiroth that, in the middle of everything and as he sat waiting in the conference room for everyone to arrive, his thoughts first turned to Tseng. By all means, he should be planning out the battle soon to come, considering the strengths and weaknesses of his crew, doing tasks of a "leader", but instead, his mind was currently drifting to one raven-haired Turk Commander. Then again, considering the dinner fiasco at the Strife household, he knew that they were plotting against him; it wasn't that big of a stretch either.

It seemed everyone was conspiring against Tseng and him. He had to give Aeris credit; she was even craftier than he had expected. He wasn't sure why everyone saw fit to push them together, but even more so, he wondered if he was supposed to be annoyed or enthused by their meddling.

If he were being completely honest with himself, he would admit albeit inwardly, the attraction he had always harbored for the incredibly sexy Wutaiian. Zack was his first crush, but Tseng was his first lust. Before his descent into utter madness at Nibelheim, however, he had managed to do nothing more than speak with Tseng within the confines of "work", not that he was trying particularly hard to be in any sort of relationship.

He had zero experience in such matters, especially once he had learned of the stigma surrounding homosexuality. After Zack and that rather unfortunate but also amusing incident, he kept his hands and his lips to himself before, Kami forbid, Hojo should find out his sexuality. He hadn't even wanted to contemplate what other vile and twisted tortures the man would concoct to make his life even more of a hell than it already was. So he had lusted from afar and had kept it at that.

Now, however, things were different. Hojo was dead, somehow, most everyone knew he preferred male companions. His sanity was stable… for the most part. Should he dare, he could actually try his hand at a real relationship, but he blamed his pacifistic and procrastinating attitude towards an attempt at "dating" on circumstance.

Sephiroth frowned as he subconsciously tapped his pen on the table, one of the few nervous and thinking habits he had developed. His eyes were locked on the table as he brooded.

Not even Zack knew the true depth of what had been done to him under his father's "care", and he planned to never reveal his shameful secret. It made him ill even to think of it, especially after realizing in the events of Nibelheim… that what he believed to be nightmares were actually real.

Just the briefest thought of those years in Nibelheim before he was mercifully sent to the military school made his stomach churn, filling him with the irrational desire to go wash himself in boiling water, scrubbing until his skin was red and raw. It made him angry because he also knew that no matter how hard he scrubbed, he would never be able to wash away the taint of that sick bastard.

Sephiroth shuddered unconsciously, eyes narrowing at the dark turn his thoughts had taken. That man, that /monster/, had destroyed any chance of a normal life for him. Hell, he could barely function as a human, his training more suited towards the battlefield. What did he know of relationships and romance? Love or tenderness? Nothing save what he felt for Zack, his /only/ family.

With an aggravated sigh, Sephiroth dropped his pen on the table and rose. He moved towards the window and glared outside, scowling at the night.

It was beginning to be quite irksome, his constant staring out the window in broody thought. It seemed lately his thoughts had taken a darker and drearier tone, even if they had begun somewhat pleasant. Zack had been trying his damnedest but had also been somewhat absent as of late. Knowing his former subordinate, Zack had probably found himself some willing female, and Sephiroth had his suspicions just who. He didn't have any plans to get in the way of that either. His friend deserved some happiness; after all, he had been putting up with Sephiroth for most of his life.

The former General heaved a sigh as he stared out at broken Midgar. Perhaps it was just time it died. There wasn't much left to the ShinRa-born city anymore. Or maybe that was just his fatalistic side.

Sephiroth had no illusions about the battle to come. He was to lead a motley band of fighters, admittedly the most powerful on Gaia but still essentially human, against an unknown and uncounted horde of beasts and demi-deities led by a demi-god fueled by an unidentified power. Even his normally optimistic best friend had been having doubts lately, along with the frequent headaches.

Sephiroth frowned.

He was beginning to worry about Zack. Not that the man would allow himself to be fussed over, but the former General did inwardly vow to find out what was wrong. And perhaps aid Zack as he had always helped him. It was only fair.

Then again, Sephiroth didn't know how much help he could be, especially if he couldn't even solve his own difficulties. He still oscillated on the fact that he was now to lead these people. He knew they wouldn't trust him. Hell, he didn't trust himself. Yet, for some reason, Cloud was adamant that it be him to do it. Zack had been as well, though he hadn't explained himself either.

And then, just twenty minutes prior this day, he had received a phone call from Cloud, informing him that a strategic meeting had been put into motion. Apparently, someone had discovered the location of Balaam, and despite the late hour of the evening, the ex-SOLDIER had insisted that the meeting be held. Perhaps he felt the constraints of time as well; Sephiroth couldn't be sure. It was pure chance that the ninja and her companion had returned earlier than expected, seeming like the entire meeting had been preordained.

Sephiroth scoffed.

He preferred not to believe in destiny. He didn't want to think that it had been his lot in life to burn down a city and then be brainwashed by an alien from another world. Or that it had been his fate to suffer the way he had.

What kind of deity would put that upon a person? For that matter, if there was a deity, why hadn't anyone come to save him?

The door to the meeting room squeaked open then, distracting him from his rather morbid thoughts. In the reflection from the window, Sephiroth caught sight of the first person to arrive to the meeting. Spiky, black hair waved jauntily on his head as Zack moved towards him, taking a place at the former General's side. Blue eyes peered out the window before shifting slightly to gaze at his best friend.

"What'cha doin'?" he questioned, slightly teasing but mostly serious. An edge of worry was evident in Zack's tone.

"Waiting for everyone to arrive," Sephiroth explained succinctly.

Zack eyed him disbelievingly. "I don't suppose you were staring out the window with a slightly insane and depressing look on your face, either."

Mossy green eyes shifted to look at his friend. Again, the feeling of something being different within the younger man washed over Sephiroth, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it.

The former General didn't say anything at first, which he knew would only concern Zack. Even as long as he had known the younger man, it was difficult for him to admit his weaknesses. It had been so firmly ingrained within him that as a soldier he was perfect, strong, and undefeatable. He was supposed to be callous, cold, uncaring, his abject shyness something Hojo had always chastised. He was told to be cruel and unmerciful, and sometimes, he still found himself struggling to maintain his grip on sanity.

"Seph?" Zack's voice broke through his thoughts once more, his concern obvious. A hand was placed on his shoulder, comforting and supportive. He wasn't supposed to need anyone, but he continued to rely on Zack more and more. Someday, he wouldn't be able to… or more accurately, he shouldn't have to.

Damn Hojo for ruining him.

The hand on his shoulder tightened even further, squeezing. "Sephiroth!" This time Zack's voice was sharp and commanding, and despite his higher rank, it caused the former General's eyes to widen in surprise. He turned to regard his friend with a questioning gaze.

"Zack?"

The spiky-haired male shook his head. "You've got to stop doing this, man," he said with another gentle squeeze before patting Sephiroth on the back and dropping his hand. "I almost lost you there. Again."

Sephiroth frowned, looking out the window once more. "I used to keep a careful tap on my emotions. With Hojo always looking over my shoulder, I had no choice. But… there's something wrong with me. More and more lately… I'm losing control."

Zack did not find this reassuring, and a sudden thought struck him. However, he hesitated in asking.

"You don't think… well, it's only a possibility, slim really, but…"

"You don't usually stutter," Sephiroth replied, rather bemused, turning his head slightly to look at his friend. "What?"

Zack sighed, taking a deep breath. "You're certain that Jenova is gone?"

Sephiroth breathed in sharply at just the thought that she /wasn't/. What if the bitch was only dormant, biding her time within him until he was weak enough for her to subjugate once more? He couldn't really be sure and had no way to check. He only assumed that once Cloud and the others defeated her and her grip on him disappeared, he was free. But what if he wasn't? He dreaded to think of the consequences of her toying with his mind again.

A noise interrupted their talk, both men turning their heads to see Cloud enter the room, a questioning look on his face. It appeared that the others were beginning to arrive.

The dark-haired man waved him off as he faced his friend. "We'll finish this later," Zack said, shooting the former General a look. Still, it plainly said that he meant business.

Sephiroth merely nodded his head in understanding before they made their way to two empty seats, preparing for the meeting to come. He tried to push all lingering concerns over Jenova's possible existence out of his mind, knowing that worrying during the meeting would not be productive.

Conversation was quiet around the table as everyone slowly began to filter in, almost as if they had all been standing outside waiting for the right moment. Most looked tired, not that Sephiroth could blame them. It was rather late in the evening, and as Cloud had said, Nanaki and Yuffie had just gotten in not that long ago. They weren't even supposed to arrive until the next day, but the blond suspected that something had happened in Wutai, even if the ninja refused to say anything. Both she and the lion wolf were being tight-lipped.

Most of the others, save Cid and Vincent, looked like they had just been dragged from the bed. Reno expressed his disinterest in being awoken by yawning at every possible moment and laying his head down on the table, where he would lift it at a scolding poke from Reeve only to start all over again.

Sephiroth was waiting for Elena to arrive as the female Turk was unusually late, when Tseng spoke, eager to get the meeting under way and return to whatever he had been doing before. The Wutaiian looked impeccably neat, and Sephiroth couldn't believe for an instant, that even at one in the morning, the Turk had been pulled from the bed. Whereas the former General felt exhausted.

"The hour is late," Tseng began. "I think it is time we get started."

"You are not going to wait for Elena?" Sephiroth asked, his gaze taking a mental count of all the others at the table, confirming that it was only she missing.

Tseng shook his head. "No. I know what is keeping her. She will arrive when she can. Besides…" He paused, a vaguely amused expression crossing his features. "I have the feeling some of us are already falling asleep in our chairs." It went without saying whom he was referring to. Reno gave a one-finger salute to his Commander without lifting his head from the table.

Reeve shook his head at his lover. "I agree with Tseng," he commented before his eyes flickered to Cloud. "Why have you summoned us all here at this ungodly hour?"

Of course, none of them knew of Cloud's decision yet. The blond was leaving that up to Sephiroth. The former General had no plans as to how to reveal that either. He was hoping that the right time would show itself. He expected it to be messy, however, and had already steeled himself for it.

"Actually," Cid inserted with a cough. "Me and Vin called Spike and told him to get everyone together."

Reno lifted his head, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. He nudged Reeve with a not-so-subtle elbow as a smirk took over his features.

"You have an announcement, Captain?" he questioned in his lazy drawl. "Did you knock Valentine up, yo? Or is it the other way around?" the redhead teased, causing a number of snickers to emerge around the table, mostly from the direction of Yuffie and Archer. The engineer seemed particularly amused, especially when Cid flushed red and started sputtering in embarrassment.

Luckily for the pilot, his steadfast lover calmly stepped in, easily ignoring the laughter. "No, Reno," replied Vincent. "I know where Balaam can be found."

Instantly, everyone sobered, giving him their undivided attention. He had Sephiroth's as well, the former General intrigued by how he had come across the information.

"What?" Yuffie questioned in surprise. "How do you know?"

"And you couldn't wait until tomorrow to tell everyone?" Nanaki added in for good measure, brow furrowed slightly in thought.

Accustomed to his tendency to change forms without notice, no one was surprised when he had arrived as a demi-human. Sephiroth only hoped that it stuck around when the battle. Nanaki's strength in this form was incredible, or so Cloud had claimed.

After delegating the leadership over to Sephiroth, the blond had gone on to explain what he could of their allies' strengths and weaknesses in order to better prepare him. It was a crash course, which left Sephiroth reeling somewhat, but he hoped that the knowledge would stay with him.

Vincent winced at the ninja's question but pressed forward nonetheless. "I remembered where Hojo first found them," he explained quietly. "They are at the Lost Grounds."

"And Vince felt the sooner we attacked the better," inserted Cid in response to Nanaki.

Archer whistled in surprise. "You really think that Balaam's hiding there?" he asked. After all, they had no proof.

"It fits," Sephiroth inserted thoughtfully. "The location is out of the way, difficult to approach, and honestly, no one has ever fully documented the depths and extent of the caverns on the island." He placed a hand on his chin as he contemplated the table. "Not to mention we have few other ideas."

"Few?" Barret snorted. "Try fuckin' none, Hojo Jr."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in anger at the insult, but before he could respond, Tseng interrupted them, his voice smooth and calm. "The point is that we've come to the conclusion that this is the best known location for Balaam. Am I correct?"

Vincent nodded as the tension dissipated momentarily. "Yes. I can feel the bastard. He's /there/."

"Wait a minute," Reeve put in, holding up a hand as his brow furrowed in confusion. "Where and what are the Lost Grounds? I've never heard of them."

All eyes turned towards Nanaki, expecting their resident scholar to have the answers, and he flushed lightly as he cleared his throat. "Lost Grounds is the old name for Barrier Island, a cup-shaped landmass northeast of the Midgarian continent. It is accessible only by Gold chocobo or…" He trailed off, lips curling into an amused smirk that revealed a flash of fang as he shot Yuffie a peculiar look. "Or by parachuting in from an airship."

"No," the ninja moaned, putting her head on the table. "I refuse! No more parachuting for me." Her stomach twisted at the thought.

Nanaki chuckled but continued his explanation, his tone taking on that of someone reading from a textbook. "Within the towering and mountainous walls, the island is a dense forest, which entirely covers the area. The northern tip holds a singular entrance to a honeycomb maze of tunnels, but they burrow so deeply into the ground that no one has ever documented their paths." He pursed his lips in thought, one clawed finger tapping his chin as a sudden fact occurred to him. "And if I'm not mistaken, there is a mako pool there as well."

"A surprise attack would be rather difficult then," Sephiroth commented, considering carefully. "However, it is not entirely impossible." He raised his eyes, directing it at Vincent. "How long would you say we have until Balaam's whole?"

The former Turk frowned as he considered the question, shifting in his seat. "A week" he said finally. "Perhaps even less."

"Then, we've no time to waste," Tseng said as he leaned forward, elbows on the table with his fingers steepled before him. "Which must be why you insisted on having this meeting tonight, even at this late hour."

"Everyone's got their hands full with the weddin' tomorrow," Cid interjected.

"And what better way to prepare for a life or death battle than first begin with hope?" Reeve murmured, beginning to understand Vincent's reasoning.

Reno leaned back in his chair. "We've been ready for this battle for the last week. It only makes sense to take that bastard down before anyone else can get hurt, yo." A murmur of agreement rippled across the table.

"Our best bet is to drop down from the Highwind," Archer put in. "There are few Gold chocobos in existence, and if there are injured, it will be best to transport them aboard the airship."

Zack whistled. "Right. That sounds like fun."

"The anima could teleport us," Reeve suggested. "Only, not all of them have that capability."

"Let's just jump," Reno threw out, smirking slightly as Yuffie paled. "It's more fun that way."

Sephiroth lifted a hand. "I'm assuming this means we're all in agreement to execute a surprise attack the day after tomorrow?" There was a series of nods around the table.

"You're being awfully quiet, Spike," Cid blurted out suddenly, drawing everyone's attention towards their leader. Sephiroth had to force himself not to sigh aloud when he realized that the time he had been dreading, had arrived. "You ain't putting forth no opinion."

Cloud's mako gaze rose from his contemplation of the tabletop to regard his companions with an even stare. "You don't need to hear my opinion, Cid," he replied quietly, wishing that his wife was here with him instead of resting.

Nanaki's brow furrowed in thought as a small murmur of questioning rippled around the table. "What do you mean, Cloud?"

The blond shook his head. "I'm not your leader, Nanaki. There's no need for me to make any suggestions."

"What the hell you talking about?" Barret blurted out, growling as he slammed a fist on the table. "This ain't no time for another one of your damn pity parties!"

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "It's not a pity party," he snapped. "I'm not the fucking hero you all want me to be. And I can't lead you to victory in this battle!" His words were sharp as a whip lashing through the air, stunning all those present into a shocked silence. Even Barret recoiled from his tone.

"But… if you're not, then who is?" Yuffie asked quietly, unusually subdued. Then again, the ninja had been acting oddly since she had returned from home.

Cloud didn't even speak, just allowed his gaze to center directly on Sephiroth, who looked distinctly unhappy. The others followed his line of sight, some of the sharper ones having already realized the blond's intention from his first words.

"You can't be serious!" Barret exclaimed, rising to his feet. "You made Hojo's kid our leader? Didja forget he was our enemy six months ago? Have you lost your damn mind again, Spike?"

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. "Cloud's reasoning was and is sound," he said crisply. "I suggest you sit down and calmly listen to his explanation before creating dissention."

Angered brown eyes flicked in his direction. "Was I talkin' to you, $$# bastard?" the gun-armed man demanded.

"Enough!" Cloud's voice rang out loud and sharp, instantly cutting through any argument and causing several opened mouths to close just as quickly as they had fallen open. The blond stood, palms planted firmly on the table as he glared at all those gathered.

"I could always lead, yo. If it /really/ bothers you," inserted Reno easily. He smirked at everyone at the table.

Before the words left his mouth a resounding "No!" echoed from everyone around the table.

"We're not that desperate," mumbled Rude under his breath, perhaps the only thing he had said the entire time. If it hadn't been for the already tense situation, there probably would have been laughter. As it were, it was enough for Cloud to take back control.

"I can't expect you to understand, though I hoped you would," he went on, somehow managing to calm his voice as Barret plopped down in a chair. "But defeating Jenova was a /fluke/," he insisted with emphasis. "In case you've forgotten, I never even made it into SOLDIER. I know /nothing/ about strategy and battle. Balaam is no ordinary opponent. And I have something more important that I have to handle."

Amber eyes regarded him thoughtfully. "What could be more important than this?" Reeve inquired, his voice managing to remain calm, though inwardly he was just as shocked as the rest of them. While he personally had little to say against Sephiroth, easily recognizing how hard the former General was trying to just be normal, he could understand the others' thoughts, not to mention that they all were used to Cloud's leadership. He was their hero, not Sephiroth.

Cloud shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. "I have to stay in Midgar. It's something that I know, however little of an explanation that may be. And I trust Sephiroth, contrary to what some of you think. While I could appoint Zack, he and I both know that only Sephiroth has the experience for this."

Reno snorted. "Yeah," he inserted sarcastically, jerking a thumb in the former General's direction. "We do crap damage, and Sephiroth over here sneezes and takes out a whole damn army. We might as well sit on the sidelines."

Zack smirked as a small laugh escaped from his mouth, clearly amused by Reno's cynical wit. "That only happened the one time," he interjected, shooting his friend an amused glare.

Sephiroth could feel warmth suffusing into his cheeks as everyone's attention was diverted his way, half in awe and half in shock. What Zack was referring to was a complete fluke, something that had often been a joke between them. Nevertheless, it was a source of amusement for the younger man, and he thoroughly enjoyed bringing it up at all the wrong opportunities.

"Seriously?" Yuffie questioned in awe as she sat back in her chair. "Who'd ya sneeze at?"

The former SOLDIER laughed as Sephiroth shook his head and surreptitiously put a hand on his forehead. "It's the funniest thing," he began. "We were--"

"Zack," the former General interrupted crisply. "This is neither the time nor the place."

Yuffie was ready to protest, and honestly, Archer was considering it as well. He was interested in this story, having the feeling that it would be quite amusing, perhaps even manage to take down the thick tension a notch or two.

"Sephiroth is right," Cloud interrupted easily, an amused expression on his face. "As interesting as it would be to hear, we have more important matters to discuss." His mako blue eyes searched the table. "I've made my choice. If you want to leave, I won't stop you."

Cid scoffed. "We may not trust him, but we trust you, Spike. We wouldn't just up and leave." He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table, Vincent promptly shoving them down. He shot his grey-eyed lover a glare before continuing, "Sides, Mr. ShinRa might just do a decent job."

The other blond resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I appreciate the vote of confidence," he commented. "Does anyone disagree?" His question was mostly directed at Barret, who merely harrumphed and sat back in his chair, making a noncommittal noise in his throat. No one else argued.

"Can we return to the matter at hand then?" Sephiroth inquired, fighting down the urge to sigh for what was probably the twentieth time since the meeting had started. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pulsing at his temple, and he was only glad that Gilgamesh had disappeared for the time being and wasn't yelling at him within his mind.

Tseng nodded, answering for all of them. "Hai. What is the battle plan, Sephiroth?"

And just like that, all of their eyes were on him, waiting for the brilliant tactical plan to emerge as if by magic. He couldn't fail this. It was his chance to make things right, to help protect something he had once been used to destroy. All of Gaia, the Planet's fate, was depending on him.

No pressure.

He cleared his throat, surprised by how his mouth had gone unusually dry. He was used to speaking in front of crowds, used to planning battle and war. Why then was this so different? Was it because so many lives would be depending on him? Or was it because for once, he actually cared about the outcome of the battle? Never having encountered this situation before, Sephiroth didn't know what to think.

Ironically, however, a plan began to take form in his mind.

"There will be two parties," he began, gaze locked on the table as the gears in his head spun with hurried activity. "One for the assault on the Lost Grounds, and the other to remain in Midgar as a rearguard. It is best if we parachute, dropping in three different groups and quietly make our way through the forest to convene at the entrance."

Tseng nodded in understanding, silvery eyes becoming bright as he started to understand Sephiroth's reasoning. "You'll want the front to assault, middle for support, and back to scout, am I correct?"

A brief scan of the table reassured Sephiroth that they were all still listening to him and that no one seemed too adverse. So far so good.

"Yes. The tunnels are a verifiable labyrinth, and it is best if we split up to cover the most ground as quickly as possible. In order to keep contact, the three groups can carry walkie-talkie's specially designed for spelunking."

"That makes sense," Zack commented, taking a deep breath. "But who goes to Barrier Island… and who stays behind?"

Sephiroth's eyes fell on those gathered. He knew, instinctually, who should go and who should remain, but he was certain that there was going to be uproar. Still, someone had to stay behind, even if no one wanted to. He swallowed thickly, realizing that they were all waiting on his orders. The ones that had once killed him now united under his leadership. How ironic.

"I will remain behind," Rude said, drawing everyone's attention away from the former General for the moment. "I wish to stay with my wife."

Sephiroth nodded, breathing easier. One down, only ten more to go.

"I will lead the attack on the Lost Grounds," he begin, looking at their expectant faces. "Cloud, you will remain in Midgar and keep an eye on our defense." The blond nodded in understanding, though he partly knew that much ahead of time. After all, it was the reason he sought out Sephiroth to begin with.

The former General's gaze fell on Tseng next as he spoke. He wasn't certain why, but perhaps it was because the Turk Commander would be able to understand his reasoning and back him up, so to speak.

"I will be taking six into the Grounds with me," Sephiroth said slowly. "Tseng, Zack, Reno, Vincent, Nanaki, and Archer." As expected, there was an immediate negative response.

Yuffie was the first to whine, the ninja always ready for a fight and certainly feeling the need for revenge after the attacks on Wutai. "What? Why can't I go?" she asked sulkily. "I'm just as strong as them, and I want to kick some ass, too!"

"I'm not staying behind." That was Reeve, sounding firm and resolute. Sephiroth had suspected that much as well, but he had hoped that both the man's husband and his friends could explain the why the President of ShinRa needed to remain in Midgar.

Sephiroth shook his head. "Balaam is both malicious and sly. He could attack while we are gone. I'm counting on the rest of you to stop him when he does. Not if, but when." He heard a scoff, his eye sliding towards a very irate pilot, who was fixing him with an intensely blue stare. And to think, that man could almost be his… father-in-law.

"Captain Highwind, you disagree?"

"I'm going with you." He spoke like there was no alternative, that Sephiroth had not choice but accept it.

Before Sephiroth could protest, however, Vincent did. "No." He shook his head. "You'll stay in Midgar. It's--"

Cid scoffed. "What? Safer?" He snorted at that thought, even as the rest of the table fell silent. Some openly gawked at what was beginning to turn into an obvious lover's spat, while others had the grace to look away, pretending like nothing was happening.

"You don't even have an anima," Sephiroth stated calmly, trying to explain his reasoning to the pilot.

Blue eyes narrowed as the former General was affixed with the famous Highwind glare. "I don't care!" he snapped as he gestured towards Tseng with a flip of the wrist. "Pretty Boy over there completely ignores his!" The Wutaiian Turk bristled at the remark but kept his tongue, not wanting the discussion to turn into a full-blown argument.

"Tseng is different," Sephiroth explained, still managing to sound calm and keeping the condescension out of his voice. "He is--"

Cid cut in before he could even finish. "Stronger?" he snapped in question, fingers twisting for want of a cigarette.

Zack snorted, adding in, "Well, he's not a chain smoker for one, meaning that he won't cough and hack and give away our position. He actually listens for another. Shall I go on?"

A palm slammed onto the table, the sound startling nearly everyone. "Who gives a fuck? I'm not sitting on my ass in Midgar!"

"Cid--" Vincent attempted once more.

The pilot shook his head. "Dammit, Vince! It's my fuckin' airship, and I'm comin'!" At the gunman's look, Cid's angry glare softened and his voice lost all traces of anger. His next words were for his lover alone, not that everyone else couldn't hear them. "I don't trust that you won't try to take a hit for someone then leap into another shiny green pool of mako. Because this time, I'm diving after you."

"Cid…" The words issued on a sigh as all further argument dissolved from Vincent's mind.

Any argument Sephiroth might have said at that point would have been null and void. He just couldn't win, especially not when the look on Vincent's face clearly proved that he was no longer on the former General's side. He had to admit; Cid was a crafty one, and he had to give the pilot more credit. Sephiroth had sorely underestimated him.

The former General cleared his throat as he pinched the bridge of his nose, directing all attention back towards himself. "Fine," he acquiesced with the wave of his hand. He also realized, that any attempt at stopping the pilot would probably only result in failure. Cid was stubborn to a fault.

"At least, our numbers will be even. It is, after all, your damn airship." The Captain settled back satisfied, but Sephiroth's moment of reprieve was short.

Reeve stood then, his chair shoving back with his movement, probably more violently than the President had expected. "If Cid is going, then I am as well," he declared, expecting no further argument.

Sephiroth fought the urge to pound his head on the tabletop, wondering if Cloud had made him leader out of spite alone. Perhaps this was the other man's means of revenge.

As things were, Sephiroth anticipated that he would spend the rest of the night explaining why each and every one of them could /not/ fight in the Lost Grounds. In the end, he would be lucky if /anyone/ stayed behind in Midgar, save Cloud. He knew the blond wouldn't put up a fight, especially since he wanted to remain behind anyway.

The former General was doing a fine job at being leader; already no one was listening to him. It had only taken a few minutes for him to completely lose control. What a nightmare. He rubbed a finger over his forehead, trying to quell the developing headache. Luckily though, Reno saved him before he was forced to argue down the President.

"No," denied the redheaded Turk succinctly. His voice was sharp, carrying such a serious and final note that even Sephiroth blinked in surprise. Few had ever heard Reno in his "boss mode", and it appeared that persona had come out to play.

Reeve blinked, eyes widening as he turned his head to regard his lov-husband. Sephiroth had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

"Reno--"

Aquamarine eyes narrowed. "No, Reeve." He was firm, unyielding, and sounding more like the boss in that moment than Reeve himself. "You are needed in Midgar, Mr. President." His meaning was clear.

"You can't abandon your responsibilities," Tseng added in, but the others remained silent, perhaps embarrassed by what appeared to be yet another lover's spat. Only the Turk Commander was brave enough to come between what was quickly becoming an angry Reeve and an already determined Reno.

Amber eyes darkened. "I know my responsibility," he grated out.

"Do you?" questioned Reno, sharply. He sat back in his chair, unthreatened by the look in Reeve's eyes. "What happens if you die out there, Reeve? What's going to happen then? It's not the same as six months ago."

"What happens if I'm not there and you die?" the dark-haired man demanded in return. "I can throw out magic faster than anyone here, and Seiryu is one of the oldest and wisest demi-deities in existence. You /need/ me."

"Not even modest in the slightest," Sephiroth heard Archer mutter under his breath as the engineer pretended he was not listening in. When Reeve shifted his eyes to glare angrily at his friend, it was amusing to watch him blanch slightly and push his seat back a couple inches, his mouth slamming shut. Perhaps the rumors of the force of Reeve's angers were based on fact.

"You are the President of ShinRa," Reno stated simply, unperturbed by the tension rising in thick waves of the room. "There are thousands out there depending on what you are trying to do to save this planet. You can't abandon them."

Reeve gritted his teeth. "I'm not abandoning anything."

Sephiroth could tell by the look in the President's eyes that Reeve realized he was fighting a losing battle. Reno very well knew how his husband felt about his responsibilities, just as he knew Reeve had always struggled with choosing between them and his lover. The President wanted desperately to protect Reno but couldn't do that and be in charge of ShinRa at the same time. The desire to make sure the one he loved came to no harm shone so strongly in Reeve's eyes that for a moment, Sephiroth felt a pang of jealousy. He couldn't help but conjecture what that felt like, to love someone that much. By all accounts, it seemed just as painful as it did wonderful.

"Then stop acting selfish," Reno replied harshly. "Don't underestimate our abilities… or mine for that matter." His voice softened when he caught the expression on Reeve's face, and he sighed. "Balaam doesn't stand a chance in hell against us, yo."

For a moment, all was silent as those pretending not to listen strained their ears for Reeve's response. The President was torn between duty and heart, obviously oscillating between the two, so much so that his knuckles were nearly white against the tabletop. The silence lengthened to an almost unbearable level before a defeated sound escaped Reeve's mouth, and he slumped back into his chair.

"If I'm selfish then what the hell is Cid?" he muttered under his breath.

"A stubborn bastard," Archer replied almost immediately, an amused twinkle in his eye. It appeared he had recovered from the glare-of-death he received from Reeve.

Cid snorted in response as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Damn right," he responded. "And I ain't got nothing better to do all day then make sure you don't leave me behind."

Sephiroth fought down the urge to sigh and rub his forehead. He didn't know Cloud handled it. With all the different personalities and attitudes, they hardly ever agreed… and never obeyed. It was a far cry different from leading a contingent of ShinRa soldiers, all having some form of hero-worship towards him. He knew that they were dependable and would possibly give their lives for the fight, but their varying degrees of stubbornness were taxing.

"The plans are settled then," Sephiroth said, leaning back in his chair.

Tseng frowned. "With so few? Are you certain we will be enough?"

The former General nodded. "We are supposedly the strongest on Gaia. Six of us have anima, two of which are the oldest demi-deities created by Kami. Technically, that means there are twelve of us. I think it is adequate." He paused as he tapped a pen on the table with his left hand, considering his next statement. "Besides, I can't justify taking along anyone else."

"Justify?" Nanaki inquired.

Sephiroth inclined his head. "There is a possibility, given the fortunate timing of Valentine's knowledge, that Balaam is planning something. He /has/ been rather inactive since we all came together in Midgar."

Suddenly, the door to the conference room flew open, probably with more force than the person behind it had intended. It swung back and hit the wall, causing nearly all everyone to jump in surprise. Sephiroth raised a brow as he took in the newcomer, not surprised to find that it was Elena, looking a little out of breath and clutching some documents.

Tseng shot his subordinate an amused glance. "You are late," he informed her.

She grinned. "Sorry. I had to pick up those test results from Sion, and you know how he gets when he starts talking." She came into the room more calmly than she had entered, closing the door behind her before taking an empty seat between her boss and Rude, who had been his usual self for the entire meeting. Mostly silent.

"So nice of you to join us," Reno drawled, waving a hand at her, "because it just wouldn't be a party without you."

The blonde scowled as she scooted her chair in, fanning the documents on the tabletop in front of her. "No comments from the peanut gallery."

"Elena," Tseng warned. "Is there a reason you were late?"

She nodded as she shot Reno a glare. "I've got the results of the chip analysis."

"Chip?" Nanaki questioned, tail waving behind him.

"It was found on the head of one of the Torama-clones Zack fought in Midgar," Tseng explained succinctly. "We've been evaluating it for the past few days but have not been able to discern much about it. We know that it is a biochip and that it has a thought-converter. However, beyond that, we have nothing."

"Until now," Elena corrected, reaching for a particular paper amongst those on the table. "Sion has come up with some interesting results."

"Wait," Reeve interrupted. "You mean, you found this biochip on a /monster/?"

Zack nodded, recalling the battle. "Yeah, it was the weirdest thing. It wasn't a normal creature either, obviously one of the strange Hojo-creations that you guys told me about."

"But… why?" Reeve asked, his brow furrowed. "On nothing more than a lackey of all things."

"That's one of the questions that confused us as well. It wasn't until Sion got a good look at it that we even realized the one we had was not only incomplete but also a rather degraded design. Almost as if it were merely a test run," Elena replied, peering at the white sheet of paper in her hand. "I hate to say it, but I have a feeling there is a more complete and probably perfected model of it out there. It is most likely in use by now."

Archer frowned. "This thing, this biochip… you're saying it had a thought converter, right? So… it controls minds?"

Tseng responded evenly, "Essentially yes. Yet, just how much control was up for debate until we let Sion analyze it." He turned towards Elena, who nodded.

"It has the capabilities for complete mind control, making the bearer completely subject to the commands of the original transmitter," she explained, a troubled look on her face. The very idea of such a thing sickened her. Taking away someone's freedom, making them no more than a puppet, it was one of the things that set her blood boiling.

"But why would Balaam need such a thing?" Vincent inquired at a loss.

The female Turk shrugged. "That's the only thing we couldn't figure out. Suffice it to say, we have to be prepared for anything when it comes to them. I shudder to think what they need to control."

"My thoughts exactly," Sephiroth inserted easily. The news of the biochip was unsettling but only further proved the belief that Balaam was up to far more than they knew. "Which is why those remaining in Midgar must /stay/ in Midgar until we return, unless the city itself is threatened. Our backup rendezvous will be Fort Condor, and if I'm not mistaken, it is still intact."

Yuffie's brow furrowed. "But why?" she questioned. "What if something happens?"

"That's precisely the reason," Sephiroth replied. "Balaam is a master of confusion and chaos. He will possibly seek to divide and conquer." His green eyes flickered towards his blond compatriot. "I'm leaving it up to you to manage things here."

Cloud inclined his head. "I expected as much."

"So, that's it then?" Archer asked, shifting in his seat. "We just… save the world the day after tomorrow?"

Reno snorted. "You make it sound like we're beating up a couple of punks or something. I highly doubt it will be that simple, yo."

The engineer shrugged. "Would you rather I said it was hopeless and that we should run while we still can?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Archer," Reeve chastised with a distinct yawn. "He's just being an idiot."

"I think Reeve has the right idea," Tseng interjected then, redirecting the conversation effortlessly. "It is rather late." He glanced over at the wall clock, finding that it was almost three in the morning. With the wedding tomorrow, there was a lot yet to be done.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Sephiroth's mouth. "I can take a hint well enough," he stated, exchanging a look with Zack. "Very well, everyone. This meeting is adjourned."

---

A/N: Two announcements: I have started on Shattered Boundaries but will only be posting it on my homesite. It's too graphic in the later chapters for Also, there is a new side story titled Shattered Universe Track List on my homesite as well, twenty different one-shots based on the twenty main characters and pairings for Shattered Universe. Lots of information you won't get anywhere else and some of them are quite... emotional. Check 'em out if you're interested. I'm currently seeking fanart, if anyone has any they'd like to show me. I've gotten two already. Check out my forum if you want to see them.

Also, if you are interested in reading more of my writing and enjoy original fiction, check out my original website Draco's Den of Debauchery, which can be found on my author page. It has both slash, and gen, and het as well as parodies and angst and drama. A little bit of everything for everybody.

With that said, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and please review!


	58. Interlude

Big thanks to all the readers and reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 58: Interlude**

(1100 years ago)

_The banks of the Cocytus River never ceased to amaze Baal. He often spent his time reclined on the sandy shore, staring out at the glittering waters and allowing his mind to wander. Today was no exception. His duties for the day complete and having no significant other, the God of Heavens had nothing better to do than sit back and relax._

_"Baal!"_

_Or at least that was what he had intended._

_He loved his friend, truly he did, but sometimes Balaam chose the wrong moments to interrupt his solitude. Currently, this was one of them._

_Dark purple eyes slowly slid open, shifting to his right as he took in the state of his oldest and truest friend, the patron deity of chaos. Biting back a sigh, Baal forced himself into a sitting position, his wings straining and stretching behind him to resituate themselves._

_"I was under the impression that Sylph wanted you by her side today," Baal commented as Balaam sank to a seat beside him, captivating dark eyes almost glowing with enthusiasm and happiness._

_Much like the other deities of Elysium, Balaam was quite handsome. He was tall with a muscular build, amber skin, and incredibly long and white hair that drifted to his hips, and his features were pixyish, belying his sometimes fierce demeanor._

_Balaam grinned, revealing a fanged mouth. "Psh. Females have been giving birth for ages without our help."_

_Yes, he dearly loved his friend._

_A wry smile tugged at the corner of Baal's lips. "She ordered you to leave," he teased, remembering Sylph's anger. She was a goddess not to be trifled with, not that Balaam didn't enjoy pushing her to her limits. It was how their relationship thrived. The God of Chaos and the Queen of Seduction, an odd combination, but the love they shared was evident to all._

_Balaam waved a hand of dismissal, turning his head to gaze out over the silently rushing waters. "Something like that. She'll be fine. Isis is with her, and as much as Hephaestion irritates me, he does his job well."_

_"Oh?" Baal raised a brow. "This is news to me. When has the God of Healing been remanded to 'the list?'"_

_'The List' was often a joke between them. True to his nature, excluding Baal himself and Sylph of course, Balaam's favor could be rather fickle and chaotic. The chaos in him more or less demanded that his nature always be disordered._

_Balaam snorted and scowled in the same motion, shooting his friend a glare. "Don't be condescending," he growled. "Hephaestion has been preaching too much lately. It irks me."_

_The gravity deity frowned as he pulled one knee up to his chest, casually slinging an arm over it. "Preaching?"_

_His companion nodded, contemplating his next words. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live as a mortal?"_

_Baal's jaw dropped in surprise. He certainly had not expected that to come out of his friend's mouth. If there was one thing Baal was certain of, it was that Balaam enjoyed being a deity and that he was rather fond of his power. Despite having the chaotic element locked in his body and the stigma of the dark forces swirling about him from the others, Balaam generally enjoyed his godhood._

_"Where did that come from?"_

_The other male shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance that failed miserably. "They are so… careless," he commented with a frown. It was not quite the word he had been looking for. "Without power, shortened lives, yet essentially still happy. Limitless. Free."_

_"Free? It's not as if we are caged, Balaam." Baal's brow furrowed in confusion._

_"Perhaps not by visible bars or chains, no," he insisted, voice suddenly beginning to become alive with passion, enough so that Baal turned towards him in shock, taking in the changing emotions on his friend's face. "But we are forced to follow rules, limited in what we can and can't do. We have all this power but are not free to do whatever we please with it."_

_"Since it is power," Baal insisted. "Can you imagine the chaos that would result if those around us used these gifts without restraint." He paused as he realized what he had said. These concepts were not altogether new to him. Balaam had often hinted that he was dissatisfied with the amount of control he was given, but never before had the other male referred to it as a loss of freedom. It made Baal distinctly uncomfortable, and he hoped beyond hoping that his friend was not considering something drastic._

_Balaam growled. "I thought that you of all people would understand. You cannot tell me that there aren't times when you feel trapped."_

_Baal shook his head. "If Kami-sama wanted us to freely use our gifts without discretion, he would have deemed it so. With great power comes a certain measure of responsibility, and there are limitations involved with that."_

_"You didn't answer my question."_

_The winged male sighed, his gaze falling to the pristine sand beneath him as he considered his friend's query. He wouldn't lie; it was beyond him._

_"Yes," he admitted softly. "There have been times but nothing more than that."_

_Balaam exhaled harshly, clearly frustrated. Still, his face softened, recognizing the difficult position he had put his friend in. He raked a clawed hand through his hair as he struggled to put a damper on his swirling emotions._

_"Apologies, dear friend, I only meant to explain."_

_Baal inclined his head. "I know, Balaam. Am I to assume that your irritation with your brother is due to this… matter?"_

_His companion nodded, folding his arms behind his head as he reclined, dark gaze locked on the sky. "He heard me discussing it with Azamat before he proceeded to go on a tirade about Kami's will and our purpose as demi-deities. 'Demi, brother, demi. We are not full gods, remember this,'" Balaam mocked with a slight sneer._

_Baal bit back a sigh, fully prepared to respond when he was interrupted by what might have been called a clarion cry._

_"The Undertaker! The God of the Underworld has been born!" The cry rose up from the land around them, echoing from the voice of the many as the birth of Balaam's son was announced. A grin, one of a father, took over the slightly manic expression that had begun to scare Baal._

_Balaam turned to his companion and literally leapt to his feet. "My son," he said proudly. "Erebus. Come, Baal. Let's go meet him."_

_The other male eyed his companion for a moment, faintly disturbed by all that he had heard, but the eagerness in his friend's words could not be misheard. He was truly interested as well, looking forward to playing the "uncle" for Erebus, so he nodded his head, accepting the offered claw and was pulled to his feet, quickly turning towards Balaam's home._

"What are you thinking?"

Baal snapped from his recollections with a subtle blinking of his eyes. His gaze followed the voice, finding Erebus standing just behind him, concern etched into his features. It didn't matter that the underworld deity was one of the few unusually good at concealing his emotions. Baal could always tell what he was thinking or feeling. He had known the younger deity for years enough, raised him as his own. It was not difficult.

The winged male smiled as he turned back towards his contemplation of the river. It always brought back memories. Ones that, though tainted now by his friends deeds, he would never be able to let go. They were of happier times, better times, or so he wanted to believe.

Erebus plopped down beside him with all the grace of one having lived for centuries. His eyes studied his companion carefully.

"Memories," Baal answered simply, unable to help another smile.

"You were thinking of Balaam," Erebus commented after watching for a moment.

The other deity raised a brow. "Oh? And what makes you say that."

"You only look that when you're thinking of father… or when Orthrus and you have argued, and as Orthrus seems perfectly happy at the moment, that only leaves him." The younger demi-god paused and turned his gaze on the Cocytus River. "This was where father was on the day I was born."

The gravity god nodded. "Hai. Your mother was highly upset by his presence, or so I was told."

Erebus laughed lightly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Mother does have a… way about her."

"That's putting it lightly," Baal said with amusement, but he frowned soon afterwards. He and Sylph gradually drifted apart as friends after a time. Where they had been close for Balaam's sake, it had faded away once that link was broken. Ironically, Erebus had slowly drifted from her as well. Perhaps he was too much a reminder of his father. Baal couldn't really say.

"Is she still keeping to her neutral stance?" the gravity deity questioned.

Erebus inclined his head, drawing one leg up to his chest so that he could rest one arm on it. "Mother clings to the rules because she doesn't know anything else. It's beyond her comprehension to think outside the box." He exhaled softly. "She's angry with me since I chose to fight."

"Sylph fears for your life."

The underworld deity shook his head, the black spikes atop his head waving with the movement. "There is that," he admitted, "but I think it is more because she has been listening too closely to that bitch's whispers."

Baal mused on this. Bitch? Was he…

"You mean, Chimaera?" Erebus didn't even need to answer, the slight smirk at the corner of his mouth was evidence enough for Baal, and he groaned. "Erebus…"

"I know." The younger deity held up a hand. "Respect for your elders." He scowled. "But if she keeps telling mother that I'm going to betray everyone just like my father, I might have to disappoint you."

Betrayal.

Baal winced. He hated that word; it reminded him too much of his own deeds.

"She's not worth it," he admonished. "Chimaera's still pissed about something that happened centuries ago."

Erebus shook his head, voice lowering. "She has a right to be angry. She lost her husband in that war."

"That doesn't give her the right to speak ill of you, Erebus."

The underworld deity sighed and waved a hand of dismissal. "Change the subject; this is a tired argument."

Baal pursed his lips but didn't say anything, and a comfortable silence fell between them. A single glance at Erebus told Baal all he needed to know. The younger demi-deity was obviously troubled by something, and Baal didn't even need him to explain. It was a tragedy and a shame that things occurred the way they had. Erebus had never even gotten to make his own choices in the matter.

Baal had chosen to betray Balaam for the both of them.

(1000 years ago)

_"You cannot be serious!" Baal exclaimed in shock. "You are talking about war, Balaam! There's nothing to be gained from it!"_

_Dark eyes narrowed from where Balaam was sitting on the ground of the small, enclosed forest, carefully tending to the needs of his young son. The child gurgled happily, seemingly transfixed by the toy clutched in large, clawed fingers. Strong hands, Baal knew; the hands of a father… something he would never know for himself._

_"You are wrong," Balaam claimed. "There is everything to gain. I'm tired, Baal, of those lowly mortals being granted more than I, more than us. We are the favored."_

_The other adult gritted his teeth, his wings twitching irritably against his back. "There will be mass death. Do you want that on your conscience? Mortal and immortal alike, for this war will involve the others." His purple gaze shifted to the dark-haired child. "Are you going to put Erebus' life at stake for this folly?"_

_"My son will be safe!" Balaam snapped. "I'd never allow harm to my own child! But even then, perhaps some sacrifices are justified." Tiny hands curled around his finger as his son smiled up at him lovingly. Erebus knew nothing of the task his father was about to attempt, but he loved him all the same. That was all that mattered to Balaam._

_"He needs his mother," insisted Baal, changing tactics. "Erebus is still very much an infant. He--"_

_But the chaos deity interrupted him before he could even finish. "What do you know? You haven't even a wife, much less a child of your own!"_

_That stung, and Baal winced, even if it was his choice to not marry a female. He had not told anyone his secret, not even his closest friend, and he kept it that way. No one could ever know, so he suffered with his life of solitude._

_His shoulders drooped as he sighed. "Balaam--"_

_Yet, the words weren't even out of his mouth before the chaos deity continued spitefully, perhaps the disorder within him disrupting his rational thought patterns once more. "That always bothered me. Why you chose to spend your time with me rather than chase after your own woman? Is it because of Sylph?" Dark eyes narrowed, as if in sudden understanding, and Balaam bared his teeth. "Were you after her this entire time?"_

_Baal's eyes widened in surprise, feeling as if he had been shot through the gut. "I love you, Erebus, and Sylph like my own flesh and blood!" he shot back, completely aghast at the insinuation. "Don't you ever accuse me of that again!"_

_Chagrin bloomed in Balaam's face as his gaze softened, dark eyes regaining a burst of clarity. "My apologies, my friend, but I am troubled. Please, I want you by my side. I need you to support me in this."_

_Faced with those words and that expression, Baal no longer had the energy to argue. He silently nodded his acceptance, but inwardly, he made up his mind, more for Erebus' sake than his own. Sylph missed her son, and as much as he loved his friend, he knew that Balaam was wrong in this. He could not be his support. Even though he agreed with much of what Balaam desired, the chaos deity was going about it completely the wrong way. Violence and war, bloodshed… things he could not live with._

_It was the dead of night when Baal made his move, for once using his gifts for his own purpose. Manipulating the gravity around him, he formed a portal that would allow him to transverse dimensions, and he eased his way into Balaam's tent.(1) He allowed himself only a brief glance of regret before going through with the hardest decision he had ever made._

_Baal took a deep breath as he silently padded his way to the small crib. Erebus was asleep beneath the blankets, cuddled up close to the stuffed rabbit toy from earlier. The smallest of smiles graced the gravity deity's face as he reached inside and gently cradled the child in his arms. However, it was quickly chased away by his uneasy guilt. He couldn't help but feel like a traitor, feel like he was committing a crime worse than inciting a war._

_Thankfully, Erebus didn't stir in his arms, lost to sleep and perhaps the happy dreams of the innocent. And for the briefest of moments Baal reconsidered, teetering on betrayal to his friend and doing what he thought was right. Yet, it passed as quickly as it came, and he reaffirmed in his mind that for Erebus' sake, he would risk the stain on his conscience._

_With that in mind, Baal summoned up more of his energy for a portal and stepped out of the mortal world with his friend none the wiser._

The winged deity sighed softly as the memory faded within his mind. That had been one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, and not a day went by when he didn't questioned himself. What sort of friend could he claim to be and still do that to someone? Take his son, run away into the dead of night, abandoning him? And he claimed to love Balaam.

Sometimes, he despised himself for that.

But looking at the younger deity sitting next to him, silently staring at the flowing waters, a small amount of justification rose in him. Baal would never have children, but he would always consider Erebus to be his own. For one thousand years, he had been watching over the boy, teaching him and helping him mature in his powers. When his father could not be there, Baal made sure he was always present.

And he knew that Erebus never blamed him. He never regretted Baal's actions even if the gravity deity did himself.

The other deities, the "faithful", were not so forgiving.

Upon his return to Elysium, after turning his back on his best friend and stealing his son away, Baal hadn't been granted a reprieve. The "faithful" had already branded him a traitor for leaving in the first place and didn't trust his convenient return. Erebus had been returned to his mother, and Baal had been locked away in solitary confinement for most of the war.

Even now, he wasn't surprised by the actions of the others. After all, his closest friend was the one who began the war, and Baal himself held a dark element, which many of the other deities wrongly perceived to an evil element. It took much arguing by his own father, Seiryu, and the elder Gilgamesh before Baal had been allowed out of confinement. He had been tentatively allowed to take part in the war.

Still, their distrust of him had never really faded afterwards, and when Balaam first began making his move again, they had started watching the gravity deity once more. And not because they believed he would join Balaam, but rather because they suspected Baal would break the rules by trying to interfere with the mortals and stop the insane Dr. Hojo. So he had quickly found himself watching everything he said or did, half afraid that any moment he would be confined once more.

It didn't help that in his moment of weakness he had admitted his most precious secret to the wrong person. After that, the others never saw him the same anymore. His only saving grace had been Erebus. The now fatherless deity had looked up to him as a parent, and Baal had been more than honored to accept the task. In effect, he had raised Erebus as the son he should have had… were Baal to ever someday become heterosexual.

One thousand years past, homosexuality had literally been unheard of, not that it had been frowned upon or necessarily ruled against, but it had been a topic that never came up. Even now, they didn't fault him for preferring the affections of the same sex… only whom he had chosen to love.

"--really be something serious." Erebus' voice cut through Baal's thoughts, causing the winged deity to blink and regard his adopted son apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Erebus. What were you saying?"

The younger male smiled faintly, though the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes. "I asked whether or not you were ready for the coming battle. But then you didn't answer I could only assume you were thinking about something serious."

"I should be asking you the same thing." Baal eyed Erebus with the all-seeing expression of a parent for their child. "Are you prepared to have to face your father on the battlefield?"

"He's not my father," Erebus insisted softly. "Just a donor. You are in all that matters."

As much as the confession warmed Baal's heart, it inwardly made him flinch. The same feelings of betrayal welled up inside him once more, memories flashing by like reflections of a mirror in the sunlight.

(990 years ago)

_The battle, the war, it was over. The mortals had suffered many losses, and even the deities had lost someone dear to them. The traitors had been defeated and captured on the field of battle just moments before. Cries of victory would have been bittersweet, so instead, they were all silent. Mournful… respectful of those fallen._

_Baal knew all of this as he shoved himself through the crowd of anima and animus gathered around the defeated deities on the mortal plane. His heart thudded in his chest, knowing he would be laying his eyes on his former best friend for the first time since leaving with Erebus. Baal had not been permitted to fight him directly, one of the stipulations behind allowing him to fight at all._

_Ahead, he could see the bright red of Gilgamesh's cloak and knew that just beyond was the fallen chaos deity. Shoving past Shamash, who scowled at him, Baal's heart leapt into his throat as he was brought up beside the elder deity. And dark eyes, lined with anger and defeat, immediately locked onto him._

_"You bastard," Balaam growled, interrupting whatever rant Seiryu was currently speaking. Silence fell among the crowd as all eyes were drawn to the two former friends. "You traitorous bastard," he hissed as his face twisted with fury, eyes flashing._

_Baal felt himself go white at the pure hatred reflected on the chaos deity's gaze. "Balaam--" he managed to force enough air into his lungs to say that but was immediately interrupted, anything else turning to ash in his mouth._

_"Don't you say my name!" Balaam screamed, straining forward against the magical chains that bound him. "You stole my son from me! My son! I will never forgive you!" His body jerked forward, trying to attack Baal, though he couldn't do more than move a few inches. Instead, his hatred and rage burned, plain for all to see. "You were like a brother to me, bastard! I will hate you until the end of my days for your treachery!"_

_With every word, Baal could feel himself growing cold, lifeless. Guilt settled within him so strong that it stole his breath. He knew that Balaam would be angry with him, but this revile, this repugnance was too much for him to bear. He had dared to hope that his friend would understand, that Balaam would see why he had chosen the way he had. But no… this loathing, it made his stomach clench, and he had to fight the urge to vomit. And still, Balaam didn't stop._

_"They can't keep me locked up forever!" the chaos spat deity, struggling even harder at his bonds as Baal inadvertently took a step backwards. "You're just like them, hypocrite! Traitor!"_

The words kept echoing long after they had been spoken. Balaam had only been allowed to rant for a few seconds more before Raidne finally cast a sleep on him. But by then, Baal was already gone, running as far away from the pain as he could. No one chased after him, not that he expected they would. Balaam had been his closest friend, and he wasn't particularly endeared to his siblings. As for his parents, well, he knew they had their hands full with the judgment. He was left to handle it on his own.

Baal swallowed down the lump in his throat. He was even more of a traitor than Balaam even knew. Erebus didn't even recognize his father. Baal had taken that place in his heart. But what else could he do?

"You shouldn't say that," Baal finally commented with a shake of his head. "Despite his actions, he's still your father."

Erebus scowled, anger beginning to break out on his features. "I'll say it because it's true," he pointed out a bit frostily. "You were the one there for the greater part of eight centuries. You were the one who helped when mother was ill, and you were the one who taught me how to accept my growing powers. And where was he?" The younger male sneered. "Locked in a glass ball because he wanted a war."

Baal sighed. "It wasn't necessarily war that your father wanted."

"Stop defending him! I know what he wanted. Freedom! I get it. Hell, every one of us has looked for it in one place or another, but there's a difference between him and us: we wouldn't kill to get it. The mortals never even stood a chance, Baal. I've heard the stories. You told me yourself that he thought war was the only way to get the 'faithful' to understand."

"I should have never told you that."

Hands clenched at the underworld deity's side. "Why not? It's the truth."

"He's your father," Baal insisted. "I can't stress that enough."

Erebus didn't understand how much he both loved and hated it every time he was called "Father" or "Dad". It pained him to gain such a gift; after all, he only had to betray his closest friend. Did that make him any better than the others?

Golden eyes narrowed. "I see," he said lowly, voice chilly enough to freeze hell ten times over. "While I considered you a father to me, I was mistaken in thinking I was a son to you."

Baal paled. "That's not true," he protested.

"Then stop! He made his choices, and you made yours. I don't blame you for what happened centuries ago, and you need to quit brooding over the past! He's not worth it."

The winged deity was chagrined to have been chastised by his own son, but he allowed a faint smile to take over his face. "You are right," he admitted after a moment, the words causing Erebus to relax. "When did you become wiser than me?"

"I've always been smarter." Erebus smirked.

Baal grinned, a true smile this time, as he reached over and ruffled the black spikes of his son's hair. It always annoyed the underworld deity when he did that, but it was an affectionate gesture.

"Perhaps so," he commented.

"You should do that more often," the younger deity responded as he stood, a wistful expression on his face. He shook his head to straighten out his mussed hair.

The winged deity tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What?"

Erebus looked down at him. "Smile," he replied. "Grandfather said you used to be quite the comedian… before the war." He shrugged as he shifted his gaze away from his adopted father and towards some unknown object on the horizon. "Don't worry about me. When the time comes, I'll take down Balaam."

And with that, he brushed off his robes with his thin fingers and departed from the shore, leaving his adopted father behind. Unexpectedly melancholy, Erebus knew the exact place to look for a little cheer and made up his mind to head in that general direction. With any luck, he would run into Orthrus as well and be able to direct the much older deity towards Baal. It was high time that he stopped brooding about the past.

With a somewhat cheery twinkle of the air, Erebus quickly transported himself to Orthrus' home, the small island Erytheia. Currently, only the God of Magic and his wayward daughter, the cheerful Asclepius, lived there. After the end of his marriage, Raidne had departed to her ancestral home, Anthemusa, not that it was much of a defeat. There was no love lost between Orthrus and his former wife, especially not after the way she had treated her only daughter.

Erebus materialized in the gardens just outside of Orthrus' home. He sorely missed being able to do that, losing his teleportation abilities on Gaia. Within Elysium, it was a wonderful ability.

He was about to begin his search for Asclepius, but before he could react, he attacked by a laughing bundle of energy. He toppled to the ground, cloak entangling in his legs as the thing atop him giggled. His hands vaguely registered soft, silky clothing and the brief scent of some type of healing herb.

"Erebus!"

"Asclepius," he managed to grunt out, most of the wind knocked from him. "Don't you have a normal method of greeting people?"

Scarlet eyes peered down at him as she smiled. "Nope. I prefer this way, yo!" She chortled again, seeming perfectly content to be perched on top of him, her hands pressed to his chest to hold him down. It was an awkward positioning, and despite himself, Erebus found he was blushing at her bold behavior.

"Asclepius," another voice admonished from behind them, and Erebus craned his neck around, looking up at Orthrus. The older male was regarding his daughter in both amusement and exasperation. "It is rude to tackle our guests. You're too old for that."

The demi-goddess chuckled and shook her head. "Erebus doesn't mind. Do you?" she questioned, giving him another one of those calming and genial grins.

Instead of agreeing, he groaned. "I think you broke a rib," he complained, rubbing said rib with one hand as he cast a pleading look towards Orthrus. It wasn't that he minded having Asclepius near to him, but it was both undignified to be tackled to the ground and improper to be straddled by the younger female.

Her lips curled into a pout. "I'm not that heavy," she responded with a wriggle that severely tested his restraint.

Erebus shook his head as he sat up, forcing the younger deity to slide into his lap as he did so. "No, you're not," he replied. "But I doubt this is respectable," he concluded, gently removing Asclepius from him. He actually liked her there, but the fact was, Orthrus stood directly over them. It left him feeling very awkward.

Asclepius exhaled in a huff. "You're no fun," she complained, moving to extract herself from his lap and bouncing easily to her feet. She stuck out a hand to offer him some aid in rising, and he accepted it, recognizing the move as an apology.

"Where is Baal?" Orthrus questioned once Erebus had risen to his feet and brushed off his dirty robes.

At his question, the underworld deity sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Dad is brooding again," he replied with a pointed look towards the older deity. He knew that, while he could often pull Baal from one of his moods, it often took someone who had methods of persuasion. Ones that he was not going to utilize. Ever.

Orthrus nodded in understanding, frowning as he crossed his arms over his chest. "At the river, I assume?" They had all gotten used to Baal's bouts of depression and always knew, depending on where they found him, what he was brooding about. This time was no exception.

Asclepius frowned. "Maybe I should go cheer him up?" she asked.

Orthrus smiled, reaching out and ruffling his daughter's hair with a familiar show of fatherly affection. "No, I think this is a job for your father," he claimed before shaking his head. "Thousands of years old, and he still broods like your anima, Erebus."

The younger male grinned at that. "Don't I know it," he responded, holding a hand to his forehead. "Between dad and Vincent, I don't know if I can handle any more self-loathing and self-pity. A deity might be threatened to go jump off a bridge himself, metaphorically speaking. Though, I will admit, the Host has been moving on more and more lately."

"Oh?" the older deity inquired with a raised brow. "How so?"

"The same encouragement I expect you're about to go give dad, I suppose," Erebus replied with a slight blush. He was a thousand years old, but in all regards, he was still young compared to most of the others. There were few younger than him, Asclepius included.

He fiddled with the black fabric of his robes as he continued; "The pilot has been good for him… well, for each other really. I found it's safer for my eyes and sanity if I be wary of when I decide to speak with him."

Orthrus laughed out loud before attempting to restrain himself, covering his mouth with his hand and shooting his friend an amused glance. "You are still young," he commented. "In time, it will not bother you at all."

"I'm not bothered by it," Erebus responded hastily, ignoring Asclepius' chortles beside him and fighting down the embarrassing burn of his abnormally pale cheeks.

Orthrus eyed him, still clearly entertained. "Very well then," he stated, deftly changing the subject, "I suppose I had best go about my duties. I trust that you will behave, Asclepius?" He directed the last towards his daughter, attempting a stern look of reprimand. As usual, it was lost on her.

She giggled as her hand snapped up to her forehead, performing a fake salute. "Yes, sir!" she responded. "The house will be present and accounted for on your return, yo."

The older deity shook his head at his daughter's antics before disappearing in a twinkling sparkle, assumedly heading towards the depressed Baal at the riverside.

"He didn't seem to mind leaving you here alone with me," remarked Erebus before flopping back down to the grass with a sigh, relaxing comfortably against the spongy green. No matter how long he had known Orthrus, when it came to being around both father and daughter, he always had a hard time treading the line between propriety and ill-manners. And it wasn't like Asclepius made things any easier. If he didn't know better, he would say she was the daughter of the chaos deity and not himself. She seemed to thrive on creating hectic circumstances.

Asclepius laughed, bouncing down into a seated position beside him, though her hand came out to touch the golden-purple blossoms that seemed prevalent in her garden. "I think he worries more about me than you."

Erebus snorted. "I wonder why," he questioned rhetorically. "Ow!" He rubbed his shoulder where Asclepius had playfully punched him. She was cute and cuddly but also dangerously brawny when she wanted to be. Go figure that a healing deity would be so freakishly strong.

"Oh, shut up," she murmured, leaning over him with a distinctly serious expression on her face. He knew what was coming, but no matter how many times she pressed her lips to his, he swore it was like the first. His eyes shuttered close as her scent, something bright and fruity, washed over him.

Strawberry… yes, that was it. Strawberry with a hint of vanilla.

Her lips worked slowly and softly against his, a wet tongue snaking out to tease at the seam of his mouth. He parted his lips beneath her direction, always willing to let her set the pace. Despite her behavior, Asclepius was far beyond a child, and he clearly remembered the day she had forced him to realize that. Her cheery nature hid a fierce disposition.

Their tongues danced and wove together, though the kiss went no further than that. Still, he reveled in her taste, like strawberry cake, before she pulled back with a definite lick to her slightly reddened lips.

"You're upset, too," she commented, her face inches from his own, close enough that her breath ghosted across his mouth.

He smiled faintly. "Of course, I am; you stopped kissing me."

Asclepius rolled her eyes, one hand brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead. "You haven't told Vincent about the council's decision yet, have you?"

Erebus sighed, eyes shifting towards the flowers off to the side. The shadow over his face disappeared as Asclepius leaned back, allowing the light to shine directly in his eyes.

"No," he admitted. "I'm waiting for them to come to a better decision."

"You know they won't."

Golden eyes closed. "Is it wrong to actually want to help the mortals?" he asked softly. He heard the rustle of fabric before a warm weight settled on his belly, and he recognized the feeling as Asclepius using him as a pillow.

"Only you can decide that," she responded, an unusual cautious tone to her voice.

Erebus chuckled lightly. "A perfectly neutral response. Orthrus has taught you well."

"Well, I need no other reason for mother to be angry with me," Asclepius replied. "It's best if I keep my opinions to myself, but for the record, I don't think it is. Wrong, I mean."

The other deity scowled. "You needn't worry what your mother says," he commented, eyes opening to stare at the endless blue sky above him.

"Erebus--"

"I know," he amended. "We've been through this before." He shifted, lifting his left arm and moving it so that it rested on Asclepius' head, and she purred under his touch. His finger brushed over a sensitive ear, and the younger demi-goddess practically squeaked.

He chuckled. "I don't think you'll ever grow out of that."

Asclepius twisted up her head to look at him, sneering when she saw the playful look in his golden eyes. "Erebus," she pouted. "That's not fair. You're not even ticklish at all."

The underworld deity chuckled and settled back against the grass, closing his eyes to the lazy warmth of the sun and the calm atmosphere. A battle would be coming soon, fierce and destructive. He couldn't say if they would all come out alright; he didn't want to think of who would have to sacrifice themselves this time to stop his blood father. He just wanted to have a moment where he could forget.

"Erebus?"

"Shh," he hushed her. "Just let me have this," he whispered.

She stirred against his belly, turning on her side and laying a soothing hand on him, just above her head. Her warmth was a comfort, and her feelings for him, though still nurturing, something he also took consolation in.

"I'm here for you. You know that." She hesitated. "Right?"

He smiled. "Yes, I know."

----

(1) I don't know if this is possible. I didn't look it up or research it, so don't quote me or anything. Hell, it's magic in a Square-Enix game, just go with it.

Review before you go please! Thanks!


	59. A Tale of Two Weddings

A/N: Caution! A looooooong snapshot chapter! 

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 59: A Tale of Two Weddings**

Smoke curled up in a grey tendril, hitting the ceiling only to be dispersed by the continuous motion of the fan. More quickly joined, creating a slightly toxic haze at the top of the room, but Reno didn't seem to mind. He continued puffing away at his cigarette, tapping one foot in an aggravated fashion on the ground as he tugged at his already loosened tie. Feh. He hated wearing monkey suits.

At the present moment, he was waiting until the time came for the wedding to begin, and he wasn't alone. His best man Rude was sitting with him, as silent as a rock but just as sturdy. They had ten minutes left; yet, Reno couldn't seem to calm. He didn't know why he was so anxious; he was married already. Perhaps it was because they were affirming it in front of everyone they knew, as if making it completely final. He didn't fear for himself. Reno well knew his own heart. Reeve was his; there was no way around it. He loved Reeve, and he would be damned if he gave up without a fight.

Reno made another round of the carpet, pacing back and forth as he puffed on what was probably his third cigarette in the past twenty minutes.

"I thought you gave up that habit," Rude commented from where he sat, perfectly relaxed in his chair. What did the bald man have to worry about? He had eloped and had escaped while he had the chance. Reno envied him; seriously, he did. He couldn't even get away with eloping. It wasn't fair.

Aquamarine eyes shifted to glare at his partner as he paused. "I'm getting married for the second time… to the same person in front of everyone we know." He hesitated, reconsidering the statement. "In front of everyone we like." There was another pause, another reconsideration, followed by a puff of his cigarette. "Mostly. And not only that, it is a double wedding with a man I can't stand, though his wife is rather lovely."

Reno winced, immediately picking up the pacing once more. "Did I say lovely?" he questioned rhetorically, shaking his head. "Just allow me this one damn cigarette, yo."

Dark sunglasses regarded him thoughtfully. "Maybe you need it," the other man replied slowly, enunciating his words as if he was speaking to a child.

Reno scowled. "Shut up," he snapped, though it was half-hearted. He took a puff of his cigarette before stalking towards the table and crushing it out in the ashtray, only half finished. "And remember to keep Tseng away from the booze during the reception, yo," he added for good measure.

Rude waved a hand of dismissal. "How could I forget?" he asked. "Elena's in charge of the preliminary search."

A scarlet brow rose. "And?" Reno questioned, plopping down on the couch in a graceless fashion, succeeding in wrinkling his already rumpled tux. He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Vodka flavored orange juice." Rude sounded slightly amused.

Reno guffawed. "Damn. He must be desperate." He rubbed a hand over his face as he considered what Tseng must have been thinking to try and attempt something like that.

Alcohol was certainly not the solution, no matter what it drowned out and helped him to forget or avoid. Reno knew this for a fact. What Tseng was doing was only harming himself in the long run, and for all that the Wutaiian had done to pull Reno out of the slums and into what resembled a good life, it was the least he could to return the favor, even if it meant saving Tseng from himself.

"He really needs to get laid," the redhead commented into his palm.

Rude laughed softly. "We're working on that."

"We?"

The bald Turk shook his head. "Oh, no, you can't keep a secret to save your life. In that, you are just as bad as Elena." He paused in thought. "Who, my sources say, we no longer have to worry about." He remembered distinctly a scene from a few days previous that he would have rather not walked in on, though Aeris seemed particularly inclined to stay. The woman was far too mischievous for her own good, and he'd had to encourage her to move along.

Reno's eyes widened as he tilted forward, booted feet slamming into the carpet as his mouth dropped in surprise. "No shit? Elena? Who is it?"

But Rude chose that moment to clam up, acting his usual stoic self and not speaking another word. He merely sat back in his chair, hands folded across his lap as he gave his partner a look that may have resembled a smirk.

"Ah, come on, yo," Reno cajoled. "You can't keep me in the dark here. Who was Elena bonking?"

His query was met with silence as Rude attempted to keep a straight face, inwardly laughing at the pleading look on the gossip-whore's, aka Reno's, face. He knew that the redhead would aggravate him to no end until he revealed what he knew, but for the moment, it was worth it. At least, he was no longer chain-smoking and worrying himself over inconsequential things.

"Rude!"

The older Turk smiled inwardly and sat back. Only a few more minutes until the wedding began.

* * *

On the other side of the church and in a remarkably similar room, Reno's groom was already prepared for the ceremony, waiting patiently for it to begin. With him were his sister and Archer, Tseng having somehow managed to weasel his way out of being best man, not that Reeve minded. He was a good friend with Archer as well. However, Reeve seemed to be handling the situation much better than his counterpart.

Amethyst eyes regarded the President. "You're surprisingly calm."

Reeve shrugged from his position in front of the mirror. "We're already married; what is there to be worried about? This is merely for Elena and Aeris' benefit. We can't mess this up." He paused, fidgeting with his tie as he considered his husband, knowing well Reno's personality. "Unless Reno suddenly burns this place down in a nervous fit of smoking."

Archer laughed. "That's a distinct possibility," he commented, clearly amused. He considered his words, pursing his lips. "On second thought," he added, rising to his feet. "Perhaps I should go check." He ran a hand through his hair as he opened the door and stepped outside, feet carrying him away to the sound of the siblings laughing.

Reeve fidgeted with his tie again, convinced that the item was not straight no matter how many times he would fix it. Behind him, Reis sighed and stood, coming to her brother's side. She forced him to turn and face her, hands reaching out and fixing it for him.

"Pretending to be calm as usual," she teased, sparkling amber eyes a mirror to his own. She patted his tie fondly before stepping back, allowing him to check her work.

Her brother shook his head, smoothing down the wrinkles in his suit jacket with hands that were /not/ slightly shaking. "It's not that big of a deal," he responded. "I've already made my decision; nothing is going to change that."

Reis smiled, regarding her sibling fondly. "You really love him." There was a strange wistfulness to her tone, as if she desired a love like theirs for herself. "Mother and father are just going to have to accept that."

Reeve nodded. "Either way, I'm not going to abandon him. I'm all he's got." It was true, he reminded himself, internally remembering their argument and discussion a couple nights previous. He loved Reno; there was no doubt of that in his mind. And for all that the redhead had suffered in his life, if there was one thing he deserved, it was having someone to love him.

Understanding filled Reis' features. She sat back to admire the handsome picture her elder brother made, a sudden thought occurring to her. It was actually a topic she had been considering but hadn't had the chance to bring up just yet. Now was as good as time as any, especially with the rumors of a battle coming up. Reeve had not yet explained everything to her, but Reis was astute. She knew something was going on, just not what. Besides that, she had a question for her dear brother.

"Have you and Reno talked about… children yet, Reeve?" she questioned softly, eyes searching his face. "I know you have always wanted them." It was a sore point that their mother had latched onto, attempting to use against him in order to end his relationship. Reis had severely chastised her for that, not that it had done any good. The woman was still firm in her belief Reeve belonged with a high society woman and not a low-class scoundrel like Reno, as Mrs. Tuesti had referred him.

Parents.

Reis scoffed internally. Sometimes, they couldn't see the happiness of their children beyond the path they had already selected, and she could understand Reeve's position. She didn't much like the man they hoped for her to marry either. He was young but acted thirty years older and was way too stuffy for her tastes. She wanted a little adventure, a little wit… and hell, a bit of a challenge. She doubted she would find that in another doctor.

Next to her, Reeve shrugged, redirecting her attention to him and the previously asked query. "Some. There just hasn't been a good time lately," he responded, brushing non-existent fuzz off. There was a tell-tale hitch to his voice, one that she immediately latched onto but didn't comment on. Whatever it was had been long handled but still hurt to think of.

She took a breath, prepared to be rebuffed with her next statement. She brushed off her brother's shoulders, smoothing down the fabric of his arms.

"You know," she suggested. "I could surrogate for you guys."

His eyes widened. "Reis--"

But she cut him off before he could refuse. "It's just out there, Reeve, as an offer," she responded softly, catching his gaze in the mirror. "Just in case you do decide in the future."

He shook his head. "I can't ask you that."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not asking. I'm offering." Reis slapped his head playfully as she stepped back. "There's a difference, big brother."

He beamed as he turned around, pulling his younger sister into a warm sibling embrace. "Thanks," he replied gruffly, swallowing down tears that were far too sentimental.

Reis grinned, returning the hug fiercely. "No problem."

A knock at the door interrupted before Archer stuck his head in, grinning like a fool. "You were half right anyways," he claimed in reference to their earlier conversation. "But that's beside the point. It's time."

Reis nudged her brother with her shoulder. "You ready?" she questioned.

Reeve nodded, a strong emotion shining in his amber eyes. "Of course."

* * *

Meanwhile, out in the foyer of the church, the wedding guests were slowly trickling in, having waited until the last minute to arrive. It had been a busy day for everyone between preparing for the battle to come and setting aside time for the ceremony. Music was playing, setting the mood for the occasion with its sappy melodies and even sappier words, and Elena fought the urge to grimace. She wasn't the type for romance to that degree. Beside her, Tseng groaned as well, rubbing his forehead with a finger. He was probably wishing she hadn't found the alcohol.

Deciding to be mischievous and hoping to drown out the strains of romantic melodies, she turned to her boss. "So," she began slowly, capturing his attention. "What's this I hear about hair-braiding and tea parties?" A grin crept onto her features as she ran a hand through her hair.

Tseng put a hand on his face, covering up his expression so that she couldn't see the mortification. "Let me guess," he replied with a barely restrained sigh, "Rude?"

Elena shook her head. "No, it was actually Aeris, Shera, Zack and, surprisingly, Cloud. He was very concerned." She paused, tilting her head to the side and regarding him an amused expression. Clearly, they had all been worried about her Commander, though Zack found it entertaining more than anything else. Aeris thought it humorous as well, regaling her with enough stories to embarrass her boss for a lifetime if she so desired. But no, she had other plans for her Commander.

They distinctly involved him getting laid, not by some random slum drunk either. He deserved much better than that. No, Elena had someone else in mind, someone that she knew Tseng had lusted after for quite a while. It was obvious to someone who had learned how to read her stoic Commander as she had. Every time Tseng looked at the man, there was such barely concealed hunger on his face that she had to rein in her giggles. He was so easy to read if one had the guidebook.

Speaking of which, it reminded her of one other thing that she had been informed of, but not by Rude. This little birdie had been Reno, and he was not pleased.

"I had been told some other things, too," she added in, eyeing him.

The black-gloved hand came down, silver eyes meeting hers. "It was a set-up, I'm sure."

She frowned. "I thought you said you weren't going to do it anymore," Elena commented, initiating the guilt trip.

He waved a hand of dismissal, gaze shifting away from hers to study those milling about in the foyer, some he did not recognize. They were probably people from Barret's hometown or something.

He waved the thought aside internally. It wasn't important.

However, he did recognize the next two men to enter. Who could mistake those eyes… for either male for that matter?

"I already got the lecture from Rude and Reno, but thank you, Elena," Tseng responded, diverting his attention back towards his subordinate, lest he was caught staring. She would tease him relentlessly.

Honestly, he knew they cared, but sometimes, he couldn't help but wish they didn't bother. At least then, he would be free to drown out the voices however he saw fit. They knew now why he chose to do such things, but still, they tried to stop him. It was aggravating.

Elena's frown deepened as she fixed him with one of her penetrating stares, folding her arms over her chest. "I don't see why it's necessary when you've got a perfectly good and clean, might I add, prospect standing right over there." Her eyes shifted, and he didn't even have to turn to know who she was talking about.

But he played along anyways, glancing over his shoulder before shaking his head. "Spikes aren't really my thing," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

Not that he wasn't attracted to those amazingly crystalline eyes of Loire, but when standing next to that sex god of a General, it was hardly a comparison. Sephiroth was classic beauty, pale and nearly ethereal with androgynous features undermined by his emanation of masculinity. Plainly put, he was sex wrapped in black leather, and by Kami, if Tseng didn't want a taste.

The blonde rolled her eyes as she elbowed him, though he anticipated the maneuver and easily sidestepped her. "You know very well whom I am talking about," she huffed with an exasperated sigh. "Men," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to him.

He decided to take a lesson from Rude and made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, watching as Sephiroth stopped to speak briefly with Nanaki before moving further into the room. Behind them, the doors were opening again, admitting more attendees to the Tuesti/Wallace wedding.

Tuesti. Tseng snorted. Reno as an elite Tuesti, it was highly amusing.

"You should just go for it," Elena continued unabated beside him, her voice like the murmur of the television in the background. "Honestly, what do you have to lose? Faint heart never won fair lady," she commented.

He shot her a look, but she was grinning madly, wanting to believe that her words had some effect on him. He started to reply when suddenly, a weight latched onto his side, and refused to let go, much to his chagrin. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Tseng looked down to see the top of a brunette head and a pink dress. He fought the urge to groan.

Marlene.

To his side, he could hear Elena trying and failing to hold in her giggles. He growled inwardly knowing that she had something to do with it.

"Mr. Tseng!" Marlene exclaimed, clinging to his hand like she was some strange type of octopus. "You came! Where's your date?" she questioned, looking up at him with a big smile, her cheeks rosy from her short run.

Tseng reddened slightly at her suggestion and fought the urge to pinch his nose. It was rather difficult to remain irritated with the cheerful girl. He was flattered by her admiration, but he knew it would eventually be his downfall. Elena, Aeris, and Shera were far too devious for their own good, and somehow, they had corrupted the children.

"I thought you were my date," he responded gently, eyes widening in surprise when she suddenly gave a great jerk on his arm, yanking him towards the church doorway with more strength than a child her size should have.

Marlene giggled. "No!" she chimed. "Denzel's my date! Remember? You're supposed to bring Sephy!"

This time, Tseng really did groan, bringing up a hand to cover his face as she dragged them inside. He managed one last parting glance to Elena, but she seemed too amused to offer him any aid. He thoroughly cursed her internally, unwilling to actually saw the words aloud. She must have seen the expression on her face, however, because she tossed him a parting wave and smile.

Really, it was too cute, or so Elena thought. Marlene really did love her Mr. Tseng, and the expression on her Commander's face was priceless. She really ought to start carrying a camera around with her. Even more amusing was that five seconds after Tseng disappeared, Sephiroth and Denzel came by, albeit at a much more sedate pace. Poor Tseng, Marlene just didn't know how to be dignified. It seemed Sephiroth was the lucky one; he received the hero worship of the more sedate child.

Elena couldn't resist the urge so she gave in and snickered aloud, until she sensed a presence standing right behind her. But before she could even turn around, a pair of warm lips nuzzled against the side of her throat, dragging the kiss around to an earlobe. There, teeth came into play, nibbling lightly. She melted at the erotic touch, sighing softly when the nibble turned into a full-on teasing lick around the shell of her ear.

"We'll have them screwing each other, yet," came the voice of her partner in crime, whispering directly in a seductive tone. She couldn't help but shiver in response, even as he laughed.

The blonde chuckled, turning around. "Stubborn men," she commented as she held out her hand, the object within it presented to her dark-haired lover. "Do me a favor; hold on to this for me, will you?"

Zack furrowed his eyebrows as he took the object, recognizing it to be a flask. "What is it?" he asked, swirling open the top and taking a sniff, wincing at the smell. He was a more unflavored kind of guy.

"Vodka-flavored orange juice," she replied with nary a blink.

He shook his head at that, screwing the top on with a deft flick of his fingers. "What?"

She beamed, shoving some hair back behind her ear. "It's Tseng's. Rude and I patted him down earlier to make sure he wasn't smuggling in any alcohol, and this is what we found." She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing for a moment before she continued, "You don't even want to know where. Let's just say it was creative, and leave it at that. They don't call him Commander of the Turks for nothing."

"He smuggled in liquor?" Zack asked in surprise. Tseng was a grown ass man; why the hell did he have to smuggle the alcohol? "Why?"

She eyed him. "You don't want to see a drunk Tseng," Elena warned. "It must be prevented at all costs." If it weren't for the serious expression on her face, Zack might have thought that she was just joking with him. But she was completely somber.

He struggled to hold back his laughter, finding that incredibly amusing. "Why?"

"Imagine Yuffie," Elena said pointedly, gesturing towards the sanctuary. "Only male and hornier. That's about the extent of it."

Zack made a face as she looked at the flask, all laughter instantly dying. "I see," he commented before shoving it deep down in his pocket, far beyond the reach of any Turks, including those with the unsavory skill of being able to pick-pocket with ease.

Elena laughed at the expression on his face before jerking him by the collar into a sound kiss, having only been waiting for the moment when the foyer was empty. They weren't too keen on announcing their relationship just yet, not ready to hear the gushing that she especially knew would come from Aeris. Not to mention, they both had obligations, namely a Commander and a General that really needed to fuck and get it over with.

Their kiss was passionate and heated, nearly starting something that they couldn't finish before Elena finally pulled away.

"Let's get inside, ne?" she questioned, cheeks faintly blushing. Blue eyes stared at her dazedly for a moment before blinking and nodding in agreement.

* * *

Cloud idly tugged at the tie around his neck, hating how it made him feel choked. Why Barret had chosen him as his best man, though admittedly there really weren't any others, Cloud couldn't really understand. He hated dressing up in monkey suits, and if it wasn't for Aeris, he might have even said no. Sure he was friends with Barret, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Stop that," his wife scolded.

Rolling his eyes, Cloud shifted his gaze towards her. She was sitting on the front row, resting and looking beautiful in her maid of honor dress. It was specifically designed to accommodate her pregnancy.

Next to her, his wife's partner in crime, the deceptively devious Shera, sat quietly. Never would Cloud have believed that the mousy almost timid woman they first met in Rocket Town would turn out to be just as scheming as Aeris. And when he combined those two with Elena, it was a volatile situation.

"It's choking me," Cloud grumbled in response, giving the tie another yank.

Shera shook her head at him, smiling softly. "Of course it is. You keep tightening it." Honestly, Cloud reminded her of the Captain in that sense. Cid didn't know how to wear a suit to save his life. It was pitiful.

Cloud gave her a glare that held little intensity before sighing and raking his gaze over those gathered for the double wedding. Really, the group was only small because most of the guests were actually in the wedding. There were a few faces he didn't recognize, but all in all, it was a familiar crowd.

Cid and Vincent were a few rows back, the ex-Turk looking perfectly refined and poised, while the pilot just managed to look this side of decent in clothes that were matched and unwrinkled. It was better than nothing he supposed, even if the Captain had foregone wearing a suit, though Cloud scowled at that. Lucky bastard.

Then again, perched right beside Cid was Yuffie, the ninja actually managing to wear something that covered up her body for once. He didn't even realize she owned anything conservative, what a surprise there. And on the other side of her, Nanaki sat, tail idly flickering as it waved around next to him. The demi-human had had to borrow from Zack, who admittedly was borrowing his clothes from Rude, in order to find something more appropriate to wear.

On the other front row, squashed between Denzel and Marlene was quite a surprise. It was Sephiroth and Tseng, and amusingly, there was a few inches of space between them, as if they were trying particularly hard not to touch each other. The Turk was stone-faced, slightly distracted by the constant chattering of Marlene on his right, while Sephiroth seemed mildly chagrined, somehow managing to carry on a quiet conversation with Denzel. Unsurprisingly, the young boy had adopted his rescuer as a surrogate parent.

Behind the foursome, Elena and Zack sat, as if keeping an eye on their respective superiors. He eyed them critically, having the distinct impression that there was more beneath of the surface of their relationship as well. If he knew anything about his old friend, then Cloud had the feeling that they were probably already intimate. _That_ was an interesting match.

Cloud sighed, turning his gaze back to his wife. "Was that your doing?" he questioned as he gestured towards Sephiroth and Tseng. He wouldn't put it past the mischievous, matchmaking woman.

Aeris grinned, jade eyes sparkling. "Not this time," she chimed. Cloud's gaze shifted to Shera, the brunette attempting to appear innocent.

"Shera?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she replied, her face completely serious, though her brown eyes shone with mischief.

Cloud sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, feeling pity for the two men. Like it or not, the three females were going to have their way.

Yet, just then, the music began to play, signifying the beginning of the ceremony. Barret and Elmyra were to be exchanging vows first, followed by Reeve and Reno.

Offering a hand to his wife, Cloud and Aeris moved into position, awaiting the arrival of the bride and groom and pushing all thoughts of devious plans out of their mind. For the moment, anyways.

* * *

He couldn't help the fidgeting. Long events like weddings bored the shit out of him. That included plays (Loveless), board meetings, dance recitals, etc. Any number of displays easily put him into sleep, but if it wasn't for Vincent's elbow consistently digging into his side, Reeve might have had to deal with him snoring throughout the whole affair. As it was, Cid faced the fact that he might have a large bruise on his ribs the next day.

Truthfully, it was already more than halfway through, Barret and Elmyra's ceremony going off without a hitch. Everything had been executed perfectly. Presently, the President and his already husband were standing up there, getting married for the second time to please two very irate women. Cid was slightly afraid of who they would turn their attentions on next, though he had the impression that their new targets were already Tseng and Sephiroth.

Those poor souls.

Another elbow jabbed him in the side, and Cid sighed, reluctantly returning his attention back to the proceedings in front of him, trying to keep his leg from bouncing out of sheer boredom.

"I do," Reeve claimed, amber eyes shining with love for his partner. There was no hesitation in his words either, having long ago overcome any insecurities.

The official nodded slightly before turning his attention to Reno, gaze shifting to his holy book, as if looking up the redhead's name before continuing. "And do you, Ichigo 'Reno' Renaurd, take this man…"

Ichigo? Renaurd?

Cid couldn't help it. His eyes widened in shock and amusement as he snorted out loud, laughter quickly following. He quickly tried to cover up the noise with his hand, but the damage was already done, his transgression overheard. Another elbow struck him in the side, harder than all the others and distinctly more painful.

"Be quiet, Cambridge," the gunman hissed under his breath, shooting him a deadly glare. Honestly, did the pilot have no manners?

Unfortunately for the both of them, Yuffie also overheard this little exchange. Already trying to restrain her laughter from Reno's real name, she was now fully amused by Cid's as well.

"Cambridge!" she exclaimed loud enough for everyone to hear. "Hah!" Laughter followed, noisy chuckles that seemed even louder in the reverent silence.

Every head, including those on the dais, turned in the direction of the four.

Cid flushed red with both embarrassment and anger, shooting the ninja a dirty look that did nothing to calm her. On the other side of him, Vincent groaned and slapped a hand over his face, sinking down in his seat. Nanaki seemed to do the same, after poking Yuffie in the thigh with his taloned fingernails in an attempt to quiet her. It didn't work, but he tried all the same.

Reno went aflame with humiliation, shooting the pilot a deadly glare before turning back towards the official, lowering his head in mortification. "I told them not to use my full name," he mumbled under his breath, resisting the urge to go find a hole in the ground and bury himself.

"Oh!" Cloud suddenly exclaimed in understanding. "Strawberry! I get it now! I thought it was just the-- Ow!" His words abruptly cut off as he rubbed at the flesh on his arm where Aeris had pinched him viciously in an attempt to shut him up.

Reeve sighed and shook his head at everyone. He shot a particularly nasty glower at Archer, just daring the man to release his laughter and say something further. The President grabbed Reno's hand, redirecting his attention towards the official. He put on his most gracious expression and attempted to bring some order to the chaos.

"Please," he said simply, not realizing that he had spoken through gritted teeth until the words came out slightly hissed. "Continue."

The official, a slightly older man with graying hair, seemed particularly amused by the strange group of friends. He cleared his throat, swallowed down his own chuckles, and picked up where he had left off.

"Do you, Reno, take this man…"

And everything was good.

* * *

Despite the minor incident during the vows, the rest of the wedding went off without a hitch, and by the end, Reeve and Reno were married for the second time. The reception quickly followed, where everyone crowded into Aeris and Cloud's home. They were eager for the dancing, the food, and for some, most importantly, the drink. Tseng would have liked to partake in the last one, but as it was, his subordinates seemed to have taken it upon themselves to guard the alcohol, informing the bartender that he was not to have any.

It was rather irritating, but he understood that they meant well.

Elena was perhaps the most worried of them all. He knew from the beginning that his blonde subordinate had once held feelings for him. It was flattering, and if he was straight, he might have actually liked her romantically. But as it was, his tastes ran male, preferably silver-haired and god-like. Once she had discovered his sexuality, Elena had easily slipped into the role of concerned friend. He was grateful that he hadn't had to deal with the more usual aftereffects.

Speaking of which, it was the thought of a certain once-dead former General that was causing his current broody state. Admittedly, he had always held some attraction for Sephiroth, he and most of the ShinRa military forces, even those who considered themselves strictly heterosexual. There was something about a man as confident, powerful, and intelligent as Sephiroth that had one reconsidering their sexuality. The fact that he was wrapped up in sinfully sex black leather was just a bonus.

But he was also untouchable.

Or so that was the aura that Sephiroth had always emanated. He only allowed Zack close to him and treated the others with the dignity and respect afforded their positions. Tseng was no exception. Always "Commander" to the taller man, they had held nothing outside of a working relationship. There had been times when it was almost as if they were dancing around each other with flirtations so subtle he had to look for them. There had been extra strategy meetings, weapons discussions, and there had been times that Tseng wanted to believe he saw a flicker of interest in mako green eyes.

However, that was the past, and Tseng had been given another chance. So why was he holding back? Why did he refrain from attempting something with Sephiroth? For that matter, why did either of them seem to play the same games, dance the same dance, but not do anything about the attraction? What was really the problem?

Was it because he knew he wouldn't just be satisfied with one night when it came to the silver-haired man? Tseng himself had never been good at relationships. He had a few in the past, but they had never lasted long. He had the tendency to keep everyone at arms length emotionally, giving them his body but never his mind or emotions. That tended to piss them off, the ones that expected more, and then, they had gone their separate ways, always with the same reason. Tseng was just so cold, too cold to tolerate.

Was he being so cautious because he didn't want to, for lack of a better word, screw anything up? He had always been a slightly analytical, almost anal, personality. He preferred to think things through, rather than barge right in; that was more Reno's forte. Maybe it was time he took a page from the redhead's book.

"Why are you brooding behind the refreshments?"

The teasing voice of his subordinate broke into his thoughts, and Tseng looked up to find Elena grinning up at him, a cup of punch in one hand with the other perched on her hip. The music from the reception flowed in and around him, a strange mix of dance beats and romantic tunes, given the DJ's mood. True to her words, Tseng had found himself perched beside the refreshments, nearly hidden by the huge quadruple layer wedding cake. Kami only knows how Elena and Aeris had found someone to bake that chocolate and strawberry monstrosity.

"I'm not hiding," he replied succinctly, glancing mournfully into his plastic cup, filled with punch rather than the alcohol he had desired. The voices had been gaining in intensity lately, making it all that much more difficult to block them out.

Elena smirked. "I never said you were hiding." The hand removed itself from her hip as she darted forward and grabbed onto his free arm, giving it a solid pull. "Now, quit brooding and come join the rest of us. We saved you a seat."

"We?" he questioned, reluctantly allowing her to draw him forward. He didn't have anything better to do, after all, and it was a party. He was supposed to be celebrating, even if he didn't feel the celebratory mood.

She grinned cheekily over one shoulder, an almost Yuffie-like glint to her brown eyes. "Zack, Marlene, Denzel, Sephiroth, and I," she chirped.

Tseng resisted the urge to groan aloud. He should have suspected a set up. Well, perhaps it was for the best. When it came to Sephiroth, he couldn't use his normal methods of attainment, i.e. getting wasted in the slum bars and finding a random, somewhat clean, and lucid creature to take to a hotel for the evening. He didn't want to just use Sephiroth to drown out the voices; that wasn't his intention at all.

"You're not putting up a fight," Elena remarked when he didn't respond as she pulled him across the dance floor to where a myriad number of tables were set up.

"Perhaps because I have realized resistance is futile," he admitted on the tail end of a sigh.

Her eyes twinkled. "Damn right." She pulled him towards the packed table, two empty seats remaining for the both of them, and she plopped him down, as he should have suspected, right next to the silver General himself.

"Mr. Tseng!" announced Marlene predictably. "There you are. Where were you?"

Marlene was a sweet girl, really, but the women were taking her supposed innocence and using it to their advantage, knowing that he would never be rude or cruel to the little girl. He was damn tired of tea parties.

However, before he could formulate a response to her question, Elena spoke up for him.

"Hiding," she answered.

Silver eyes narrowed. "I was not hiding."

"What were you hiding from?" Zack asked, raising a brow as he shared a glance with Elena. Tseng knew that the two were conspiring against him.

"I was not hiding," the Wutaiian insisted. "The bartender refused to serve me." He swiveled his gaze towards his subordinate. "Any idea why?"

The blonde shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't believe you're old enough." There was a clink as she set down her drink.

Marlene and Denzel laughed at this as the youngest female slipped from the table, grabbing onto her best friend's hand and literally pulling him away. "C'mon Denzel, I want some cookies." Against the somewhat pushy female, Denzel could do nothing but stumble along, his face brightening up at the idea of cookies.

"Marlene has certainly taken to him," Elena remarked casually. "They are hardly one without the other."

"There aren't that many children around. I think she just likes being able to boss someone around. The whole only child bit, you know," Zack suggested, taking a gulp of whatever alcoholic concoction he was drinking. "I never had any brothers or sisters either."

There was a murmur of agreement around the table from the other men, unless Sephiroth wanted to count the many clones that Hojo had attempted. Elena however, was not agreeing. She made a face into her drink.

"I had an older sister. She was just as bossy." The blonde woman snorted into her glass.

Tseng nodded in understanding. "Yes, I remember Maria. A brilliant sharp shooter if I recall."

Elena made a face at her Commander. "Let's not talk about her," she commented, rising to her feet. "Come on, Tseng. Dance with me."

The Wutaiian's gaze fell on those clogging the dance floor of the reasonably small Strife household. They had taken most of the furniture out of their living room for the occasion, the huge furnishings replaced with a few tables and fold-out chairs, not to mention the fold-out table covered in food, drink, and wedding cake. The decorations were tasteful and nondescript, a blend of aquamarine and gold, without all the frilly, laciness usually involved in such grand affairs. Aeris and Elena had done well.

Nearly everyone at the wedding had attended the reception and now crowded the dance floor. They moved with varying levels of skill to some fast beat of a popular song that Tseng did not recognize. To his surprise, even Rude was out there, the bald man showing a surprising amount of talent. Still, he didn't feel the urge to get up and join the masses.

He wasn't big on such movements himself. He was more content to sit back and observe. Tseng knew the more traditional and refined dances, but otherwise, he wasn't a partier. That was more Reno's forte, until he had met Reeve that was.

Suddenly, he found himself jerked from his chair, and he scrabbled to place his cup on the table without spilling the cherry red liquid all over his clothing. "Elena?" he sputtered, turning his head to find that she was in fact the culprit.

"Nope," she replied cheerily. "I won't take no for an answer. You owe me one, boss."

The blonde woman had a grip on his arm, firm and stronger than he had ever suspected she had. He could break free if he wanted but not without causing a scene. With a reluctant sigh, Tseng allowed himself to be dragged away, much to the amusement of those remaining at the table.

Zack chuckled to himself as he took another gulp of his drink, crystalline eyes falling on his best friend, who had been like a statue for the past few minutes. "You've been awfully quiet," he commented, setting his cup down on the table. "Care to share why?"

The former General toyed idly with his untouched drink. "My mind is not on celebrating; if that is what you were asking," he admitted.

The other man frowned. "Worrying about the battle tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't call it worry," Sephiroth replied, raising his moss green gaze to meet his friend's. "Not as long as you're by my side."

A smile overtook the frown. "All the way, Seph. You're not in this alone," Zack responded. "I've got your back."

Sephiroth nodded, relief apparent in his expression, but from the slight shifting of his position in his seat, it was obvious there was still more troubling him. "Zack, if I should--"

"You won't," Zack interrupted. "We already discussed this."

"But there's still a chance," Sephiroth insisted. "We don't know that she's really gone. We don't know--"

"Seph, we both know you're stronger this time. It won't happen again." His words were firm, enunciating each syllable as unyielding determination set in his features. Blue eyes glinted unwaveringly.

The former General sighed as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "I hope you're right," he replied lowly.

The other man was smug, and he smirked at his former commanding officer. "I'm always right," he replied at the same moment that Tseng returned, slumping back into his seat appearing both rumpled and slightly annoyed. "Where's Elena?" Zack questioned.

The Turk Commander waved a hand of dismissal, eyeing the alcohol in Zack's cup with a hint of longing. "After insulting my abilities and grace, she made it her duty to go cheer up Archer. Apparently, he seemed depressed." One hand began to rub along Tseng's temple, quelling a headache borne from irritation. "I need a drink."

"From what I hear, you're not allowed to have any," the younger man countered. The stern glare sent his direction only added to his amusement as he remembered the vodka-flavored orange juice still shoved down in the bottom of his pocket.

"Not allowed?" Sephiroth inquired slowly. "Why not?"

Tseng sighed again. "It doesn't matter." He grabbed his cup of plain fruit punch and drank it, internally wishing he had the power to turn punch into vodka or something stronger. Those damn voices had to be useful for something other than making his life difficult.

It was then that Marlene made a reappearance without her Denzel shadow. Laughing and smiling, she attached herself onto her favorite's Turk's arm.

"Mr. Tseng, will you dance with me?" she questioned cheerily, turning hopeful puppy eyes onto the Wutaiian.

A very pained expression took over the Commander's face. "Marlene, I'm sorry… but no. I am feeling unwell."

While it was partially true, it was also a blatant lie. Hadn't he suffered enough humiliation to last himself a lifetime? When would it be someone else's turn to be subjected to tea parties and hair braiding and, by Kami, play time with dolly?

At her crestfallen look, Zack was quick to step in with the double plan of getting the ever elusive Sephiroth and Tseng alone. "I'll dance with ya, Squirt," he suggested, rising to his feet. "I'm ready to boogie." He held out a hand, a big grin on his face.

Marlene giggled as she bounded around the table, lacing her fingers through his much larger ones. "Okay," she chirped, Tseng entirely forgotten in her eagerness. The two quickly disappeared into the crowds, leaving Sephiroth and Tseng alone at the table.

A predictable silence fell between them. Tseng rubbed his forehead, and Sephiroth fiddled with his still untouched glass of some questionable alcoholic content that Zack had brought to him. The Wutaiian had about a thousand things he could say, but they were all boring topics or something that would get him nowhere. And when it came to the slightly cold General, he never quite knew what to say that didn't involve work.

The sound of something sliding across the table attracted Tseng's attention, disturbing his solitary thoughts. The Turk looked up in surprise to find Sephiroth inching his cup towards him.

"Here, I'm not sure what it is, but I know there's alcohol in it," the former General offered before retracting his hand, leaving the cup placed somewhat between them, like a symbol of a truce. "You look like you need it more than I."

Silver eyes darted from the cup to Sephiroth and back again, unable to help the brief licking of his bottom lips that occurred without his consent. Tseng was nearly speechless, and he wondered if he would be able to get away with it. Or would Elena appear out of nowhere and snatch the cup away from him?

Wait, scratch that! _Sephiroth_ was offering him his alcohol; shouldn't that be his first most thought?

"I haven't drunk from the cup, yet," Sephiroth inserted hastily, misinterpreting his hesitance. "If that's what you're worried about."

Tseng shook his head, grasping the cup quickly and causing the contents inside to slosh about, nearly going over the rim. "No, I just…" he trailed off, not completing the statement as he gingerly sniffed the concoction.

Yep, definitely alcoholic.

Not wanting to appear ungracious, he took a quick gulp. The concoction burned its way down his throat and settled warmly in his belly, but the taste, by Kami, the taste! Tseng couldn't help but grimace.

"What the hell is this?" he questioned, shooting Sephiroth a strange glance. "It's awful." Literally, awful was the best word to describe it. It tasted as if someone had taken every type of liquor, put it in a cup, and squirted cranberry and orange juice on top of it. It was terrible.

Sephiroth shrugged. "Zack made it," he explained. "He calls it his Suicide Slurpee. You can see why I was hesitant to try it."

Tseng blinked, looking down into the multi-colored liquid. "I can," he mumbled, taking another gulp anyways. It was likely the only alcohol he was going to get. He swallowed the down the urge to choke on the vile substance, instead concentrating on the pleasing burn and warmth it gave him. Hell, he probably would only need another cup or two of the stuff to get completely wasted.

The uneasy silence between them fell once more. Sephiroth directed his attention to the perusal of the swirls in the fiberglass tabletop while Tseng's gaze shifted to the dance floor. Most of the strangers had begun to clear out already, but he didn't see Denzel anywhere. Perhaps he had gone upstairs to bed. The others were scattered about, all dancing except for Cid and Vincent.

All in all, as far as parties went, the reception had gone quite well.

Tseng bit back a sigh and turned his thoughts to his current predicament. He was sitting right next to Sephiroth, and he didn't have a damn thing to say. It was utterly ridiculous. Since when did he become nothing more than a blushing juvenile over someone?

Tseng was long past that stage. Yet, there was something about the former General that shook him out of his carefully constructed and ordered life. Anything that ever involved Sephiroth tended to make him go a bit crazy in more ways than one.

Which brought him back to his circuitous thoughts of earlier. What exactly was holding him back?

Well, other than the fact that Sephiroth had only recently returned to life. And the truth that an alien inhabiting his body had tried to kill Tseng once and damn near succeeded. And beyond the reality that he knew next to nothing about Sephiroth on a personal level, what was the true reason he was being so hesitant?

Really, he had none, save something simple such as timidity or cowardice, neither of which he had ever displayed. Perhaps he was just being stupid and afraid. Unused to relationships and actually attempting something that had a meaning, he still wasn't sure how he felt when it came to the former General.

Chomping down on a sigh of aggravation, Tseng threw all of his arguments out the window and tossed caution to the wind. He was tired of analyzing everything down to the last little detail. For all he knew, they were going to die tomorrow. It was time he stopped pussy-footing around and actually did something.

Starting with Sephiroth.

"After all," he murmured to himself beneath his breath, "faint heart never won fair lady."

Beside him, Sephiroth stirred at the barely perceptible words. "Loveless."

"What?" Tseng asked, slightly confused. He frowned as he shifted in his seat, half turning to regard his companion with questioning silver eyes.

Sephiroth gestured towards him. "That quote you just mumbled. It is from the play Loveless. I believe it was what Delitha said in his soliloquy."

For a moment, the Turk Commander was stunned. "You've seen Loveless?" he questioned, still very much surprised.

The Sephiroth tilted his head and tapped one gloved finger on the table. "Among others. Not one of the best I've seen, but it was adequate. I found the musical tracks quite intriguing."

Tseng raised an eyebrow, turning his body entirely so that he could face the former General. "Personally, I found Gerauln's soliloquy a fascinating rebuttal of human nature."

Neither man noticed, as they continued in their discussion of classical, as well as modern literature and theatre, that they were being watched by amused brown eyes. Elena, who was currently being swung around to the quick beat by her dance partner, couldn't help but chuckle aloud.

"Finally," she commented, shaking her head. "I was beginning to think my plans were never going to work."

Amethyst eyes regarded her thoughtfully. "Oh?" Archer questioned. "And what plans were these?"

"You haven't really been around, so you wouldn't know," the blonde responded. "But I've been working diligently to get Tseng and Sephiroth together."

"A handsome couple," the engineer remarked, his gaze shifting to the two. They were rather beautiful, a lot like Vincent Valentine, and immensely powerful. It was a near dangerous combination but also sinfully alluring. He couldn't help the slight shiver of jealousy.

"Speaking of couples," Elena began, studying him intently. "I'm wondering what to do about you. Don't think I haven't noticed your broody and depressive state lately."

Archer smirked. "I think you may have me confused with someone else. Archer Kyle does not brood."

The Turk chuckled. "Maybe, maybe not. But you have been somewhat downcast and quiet ever since Vincent returned." She cocked her head to the side. "You didn't expect him to, did you?"

"Kami!" he uttered, rolling his eyes. "Does everyone think that? Yeah, Cid is my ex, and maybe I do still have feelings for him," he admitted a bit reluctantly. "But I'm not stupid, and I know my place." His gaze unsurprisingly traveled in the direction of the aforementioned man and his dark-haired lover, finding them somewhat cozied up in a corner. "They need each other. He doesn't need me."

Elena nodded in understanding, a flash of sadness creeping into her features, more for Archer's sake than her own. "Unrequited love can be a bitch, sometimes."

"Especially when the fault is your own," the engineer agreed. The regret in his tone was unmistakable, as well as the layers of sorrow intermixed. The normally cheerful man was adept at hiding his inner pain.

Elena clucked her tongue sympathetically. "I'm sure there's someone out there," she soothed, attempting consolation.

He shrugged as he nimbly danced out of her hold when the last refrain of the song faded. "Don't worry about me," he replied, plastering a smile on his face. "After all, you've got a man of your own to please, ne?" he returned with a wink, referring to something he had heard from Reno, who had been told by Rude. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find Nanaki." And with that, he disappeared into the throng, leaving behind a somewhat aggravated Turk.

"Stubborn man," she muttered under her breath. With a huff, Elena turned and sought out her newest addiction, thinking of bright blue eyes and a killer smile.

* * *

Yuffie giggled as Nanaki grabbed her hand, pulling her off the dance floor and towards the door that led to the gardens. "Aki, what are you doing?" she questioned in surprise as they stepped out into the cool evening air, the smell of flowers thick and cloying, even for the waning autumn. It was secluded as well, all of the others having either gone home or remaining inside.

"You'll see," the demi-human enigmatically responded. He unconsciously squeezed her hand as he led her towards a stone bench. Nanaki swallowed down his own nervousness, encouraging her to take a seat with a gracious gesture.

"You're acting strange," the ninja remarked as he sat down beside her, not that she minded. Now, they were alone and in a romantic setting at that. It made her cheeks warm with the thought, especially considering what had happened the last time they were alone. It sent shivers down her spine.

Nanaki fidgeted, his gaze seemingly locked on the sky above them. "No, I'm not," he replied simply, tail swishing behind him in a restless fashion.

She grinned, lightly touching his knee to bring his gaze back towards her. "Your tail is twitching," she pointed out. "That means you're nervous about something." Even in the dim lighting, she could see the flush staining his cheeks.

"Okay," he conceded. "Perhaps I am just a little." One of his hands fidgeted in his pockets as he swiveled his gaze towards her, golden eyes warm.

Amused, she managed to refrain from giggling at him. It was strange to see the normally confident male so nervous.

"Why?"

A hand came up and touched the flamel around his neck, an almost tender gesture. "I don't believe I ever thanked you for this."

It was her turn to blush. "It was nothing special," she mumbled. "I just didn't like seeing you depressed." Her gaze fell to the very fascinating grass, while her stomach flitted about, like butterflies had taken up residence there.

His hand touched hers, instantly grabbing her attention. "I feel the same way. I know you're still upset, even if you are trying to hide it."

Yuffie scowled. "Don't bring him up. I was actually having a good time. Stupid old man," she added, muttering under breath.

Nanaki scooted closer to her, disliking the emotions that displayed so readily across her face. It was only logical that she was still upset by the encounter. Her father had said some very nasty and hurtful things, and by all accounts, he was still the only blood family she had. And while Nanaki was a bit offended by what the Wutaiian lord had said, he couldn't deny that much of it was the truth. But that wouldn't stop him from pursuing a relationship with the ninja. His attraction to her was too strong, their link something beyond comprehension.

"I wasn't planning on it anyways," he murmured gently, placing a hand beneath her chin and redirecting her face towards him. One clawed thumb stroked over her cheek before he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, ever mindful of his sharp fangs.

Her lips parted easily against his, and he took that opportunity, sliding his tongue inside her mouth. The kiss was languid and soothing, relaxing even for his nervous twitch, and he knew without a doubt that there was nothing to be anxious about. After all, he was giving her materia wasn't he?

The thought made him smile.

After a moment, when breath became a necessity, he reluctantly pulled back. "I have something for you," he explained.

Glazed brown eyes looked back at him, and he had to suppress the chuckle at the sight. "Oh?" she questioned. "Is it materia?" Her hands practically rubbed together in glee.

This time he did laugh aloud. "Something like that. Close your eyes." Surprisingly enough, the ninja was obedient without argument, probably encouraged by the thought of receiving a gift. A smile curled at the corner of her lips as she hummed in anticipation.

Nanaki dug into his pocket, managing to pull out the necklace without making too loud of a sound. He rubbed a thumb over the intricate design of the charm; Archer had done very well indeed. It was the perfect length, too, the demi-human noted as he put it around her neck. Sitting right above the hem of her shirt, it would be a comforting weight, and the design was light enough that it wouldn't offset her concentration in battle.

"Can I open them?" Yuffie asked.

His finger lingered on the chain, feeling the heat of her skin. "Yeah." Nanaki swallowed thickly, retracting his hand.

Having already felt the weight around her neck, Yuffie's hand came up to feel along the metal as her eyes opened. Her fingers curled around the object, bringing it up for her inspection. A small gasp escaped her mouth as she took in the gift.

It was crafted from silver, the tiny coils of the chain delicately strung together, although she knew at a glance that they would not easily break. However, it was the charm that truly captivated her awe. She immediately recognized the materia, the small green Earth that had been Nanaki's favorite and the main player in their constant theft game. Coiled around the Earth was a silver rendition of Leviathan, his supine body cradling the globe of materia. The necklace was both unique and sentimental, instantly making her heart warm with happiness.

She grinned then, dropping the necklace from her hands as she glanced up and found him watching her apprehensively. That silly demi-human. Of course she would love it!

With a squeal of happiness, the ninja threw herself at Nanaki, nearly tackling him to the ground. "Aki!" she gushed. "It's perfect. Thank you." Her arms wound about his neck as he grunted beneath her almost brutal assault. "It's the best thing anyone's ever given me. Except maybe when my mom gave me my first shuriken, but just as special!"

She felt good pressed up against him, all soft and curvy. He followed through with his instinct, wrapping his arms around her and drawing the ninja even closer.

"You're welcome," he whispered in response. Her breath was warm and moist against his neck. It sent shivers up and down his spine, and Nanaki unconsciously tightened his hold on her.

"Not that I'm complaining," she continued, pulling back enough so that he could see her eyes. "But why did you give something so nice?" One hand untangled from around his neck to snake between their bodies, nimble fingers running along the chain.

"I would think that's pretty obvious," the demi-human murmured in return, sliding one hand along the expanse of her back. "You're someone special to me."

Now, Yuffie Kisaragi never considered herself a romantic woman. She was more interested in materia and battle, never really caring much for flirting or love or relationships. Still, Nanaki had a way of bringing out a side of her that she never knew she had. The one that longed to be held and loved, cherished and desired. And at his sweet words, she found she was blinking back tears. Maybe it was the moment or even just a fall-out from the argument with her father. Either way, her emotions threatened to spill out.

She swallowed thickly, knowing her eyes probably shone with unshed moisture. "I think that deserves a kiss," she responded. "You're special to me, too, Aki." A smile, genuine and without its usual mischievousness graced her face.

"I think I can provide one." And they were kissing, sweet and tender. Lips moving gently, tongues sharing the same space and flavors as their bodies pressed tightly together.

Yuffie made a small noise in her throat as she gave into the embrace, relaxing in his arms as one hand stroked along her back. Her own curious hand found its way to his suit jacket, slipping between the folds to slide along strong muscles. She tangled her free hand in the surprising softness of his fiery red hair, completely lost to the moment.

The door to the garden flew open, making quite a racket. Nanaki and Yuffie separated quickly, thereby ending what was threatening to become quite steamy. The two turned startled eyes towards the intruders, Yuffie giggling when they caught sight of Cid practically manhandling Vincent against the door. It didn't appear that the former Turk was putting up much of a fight, however, or that the two men had noticed their voyeurs. That wasn't unlikely considering that they were seated in a rather darkened portion of the garden.

Yuffie exchanged an amused glance with Nanaki as the two rose to their feet. She grabbed the demi-human's hand and squeezed, regretting their interrupted moment.

"Thanks again for the necklace," she murmured as she went to her tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Now, let's go see how much I can tease them before either snaps."

The demi-human chuckled as he shook his head. "Yuffie, I do believe you have corrupted me since that sounds entertaining." With that, he tugged her along, and the two strode towards the oblivious pair, a sneaky and diabolical grin already on the ninja's face. She moved directly behind Cid, placing both hands on her hips.

"Get a room, old man," she exclaimed loudly. "You're corrupting my innocent eyes."

Immediately, Vincent froze, his eyes snapping open, but the pilot was not deterred in the slightest. The gunman pushed at Cid's shoulders in an attempt to remove his blond leech, not that he didn't appreciate the sensations.

"Cid," he muttered, rather annoyed when the pilot didn't seem too intent on quitting. Vincent gave another light shove, and finally, the lips left his neck. A faint look of embarrassment crossed the gunman's features. He still shied away from public displays of affection and romance made him somewhat uneasy. Yet, Cid was nothing if not persistent, as well as a closet romantic.

The pilot scowled as he turned to face the ninja and her quiet companion, Vincent slipping from his grasp. "Innocent my ass." He snorted, casually yanking on his collar to loosen it. "What the hell ya doing here anyways, brat? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

Yuffie scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the disheveled state of Cid's wardrobe. "Wouldn't you like to know," she taunted as she shook a finger at him. "Besides, you're the one molesting poor Vinny. He's mortified!"

Vincent groaned as he shook his head, unable to resist the urge to cover his face with one hand. "Yuffie, why don't you go back inside? Cloud's pretty drunk; his materia is ripe for the taking," he said through his fingers, regaining his composure enough drop his hand and finally spy the gleaming Earth materia hanging around Yuffie's throat. A genuine smile graced his features. "Then again, it doesn't appear that you will be needing any, not with one so special as that."

To his credit, the demi-human managed not to make a complete fool of himself by flushing nearly to the tips of his pointed ears. Instead, he kept the redness to his cheeks, brushing off the embarrassment by casually examining his claws and choosing to bring the gunman out as well, feigning an innocence of his own.

"Nor does it seem Cid needs a ring to mark his possessions."

Grey eyes shot the unashamed blond a deadly, accusing glare as one hand searched his neck, as if able to find the mark by touch alone. He hated it when Cid was careless; it seemed so juvenile, for lack of a better word. Not that it stopped the pilot. He had no shame.

Yuffie laughed out loud at the look on Vincent's face before grabbing Nanaki's hand and hauling him towards the door. "We're going inside now. Try not to scar anyone else for life," she said in a sing-song voice. The demi-human shot them a slightly apologetic look as they slipped back inside the house, finally leaving the older men alone.

"Feh. Thought they'd never leave," Cid remarked with a smirk as he turned around to reach for his quarry.

Vincent, however, eyed him warily. "You marked me," he accused, still rubbing his neck, like he could wipe away the very obvious hickey.

Cid leered in response, stepping closer to press the gunman against the wall of the building but away from the door. "I know," he replied, sounding very smug. "I did it purposefully."

"You're incorrigible," commented Vincent on the tail end of a sigh. He dropped his hand, revealing the darkening mark as his eyes closed, and he bent his head slightly to accept the kiss that Cid was offering him. It always amused him, their height difference, which only seemed to aggravate the shorter but stockier Highwind.

Cid was warm and pliant beneath his touch, breath smelling faintly of the scotch he had been drinking, not to mention the wedding cake he had consumed by the forkfuls. Vincent had encouraged it, hoping the fat-filled sugary excess would put some pounds back on the pilot's far too skinny frame. Stubble scratched against his chin, a welcome and familiar sensation that he had learned to accept as just being a part of the Highwind persona.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," Cid murmured against his lips, pulling back softly from the kiss.

Vincent blinked. "What?" he questioned.

A hand grasped onto the gunman's, threading their fingers in an almost desperate hold. "I can't do it again," the blond responded earnestly, sky blue eyes looking up to lock onto startling grey. "I can't lose you again."

All of the sudden, the marking and the impulsive mauling and clinginess of the past few hours made sense. Cid had always been the more romantic of the two, prone to public displays of affection. But with the approaching battle on the morrow, he could practically feel the pilot's fear and worry radiating off in waves. It made sense, considering what happened the last time they all faced a final battle similar to the one against Balaam. He could understand his lover's apprehension.

"Cid…" he whispered softly in realization. "I--" But he was cut off.

The blond shook his head, squeezing his hand even more tightly. "Promise me!"

Vincent sighed, closing his eyes. "I can't. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I can't prevent anything."

"I know that. I'm not stupid," the pilot sharply responded. "Just…. no more sacrifices. No willing leaps into mako pools."

The gunman's face darkened at the reminder of his stupidity. "I was foolish. Chaos tricked me." His eyes opened, but his gaze shifted to the side, idly watching the wind rustling the leaves of the bushes around them. "I won't make that mistake again."

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you." Cid was completely serious, his voice solemn and grave. "I'll jump into the Lifestream and kick your scrawny ass."

A smile tugged at the corner of Vincent's lips. "Don't worry, Chief," he assured. "I'm not out for any sacrifices, and I'm tired of dying."

"Good." Cid reached up and grabbed the collar of his white shirt, dragging him down for another kiss, this one filled with pure need and desire. The pilot threaded his hands through Vincent's hair, keeping him close as he pressed up as near to the him as possible. After so long of searching, he just liked to remind himself that Vincent was real and not leaving anytime soon.

It was only the need for air that separated them. "Dance with me," Cid suggested in a low voice. He had a mischievous grin on his face, not unlike Yuffie's.

Vincent groaned, leaning his head back against the brick wall of the Strife home as he closed his eyes in slight irritation. "Cid, we've been through this before."

"Come on," cajoled the pilot, not giving up for one moment. "It's not like I'm asking for a kidney. Most everyone's gone or drunk, and hell, it shouldn't matter anyways."

"I don't like to dance," the gunman grumbled in response. He sighed, resisting the urge to bang his head against the wall. After all, it would be counter-productive.

Cid shrugged. "And I'm no good at it. Got three left feet. We'll make the perfect pair."

"Three?" Vincent questioned, and a smile curved at the corner of his mouth, finding Cid's almost begging quite amusing.

"Yeah, which means I'm worse than the normal person. Besides you owe me."

Funny, Vincent didn't remember making such a promise. "I owe you?"

The blond nodded. "After the battle in North Crater, we threw a celebration party. I have been thinking about dancing with you ever since then." He poked a finger at the former Turk's chest with each word. "You. Owe. Me. Please?" Cid, for the first time in his life, attempted the puppy-eyed look that usually only worked for children and the really cute guys.

Vincent sighed again, though his mouth threatened to twitch into a smile. "It's unseemly for a grown man to beg," he commented, already capitulating. He had noticed that the room behind them was actually clearing out, and really, the sight of the gruff pilot become all beseeching was quite charming.

"Only for you, baby," the blond leered, running a hand through his short hair.

Vincent chuckled at the endearment. "It's been a long time since I heard you call me that."

"It has, hasn't it," Cid commented softly, frowning slightly at the reminder. "Too long." The hand wrapped around Vincent's waist unconsciously tightened in its hold, the blond most likely remembering the past six months and the pain associated with that long period of time.

"One dance," the gunman replied, quick to change the subject, anything to wipe that look off the pilot's face. He felt guilty enough already, nor did Cid need the reminder. "And then, we go home." One hand crept around the blond's body to grope at his ass.

Cid's face brightened at the thought. "Deal."

* * *

"I can't believe that the children were better behaved," Reeve grumbled, unable to keep his gaze from shooting daggers into the back of both Cid's and Yuffie's heads now that the two had finally shown back up.

Reno chuckled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were more upset by that than me, yo," he responded, tightening his hold on his husband's waist as he led them into a slow twirl to the beat of the melody played by the speakers. A love song, no surprise there.

Reeve shook his head. "He's an adult for Kami's sake; he should know better."

The younger male laughed again, giving a small tug on Reeve and forcing the President closer to him, until their bodies were nearly melded together. With the romantic music playing around them and the room dimly lit, he was reminded of the day when he had first proposed to Reeve, directly after defeating Sephiroth six months… no, almost seven now, prior. He was just as much in love with Reeve now as he was then, and after five years, he couldn't imagine being with anyone else as sappy as it sounded.

"Maybe so," the redhead agreed, nuzzling Reeve's face with his cheek in a public display of his more tender side that he tended to keep hidden. "But then, he wouldn't be Cid Highwind if he learned to restrain himself."

The dark-haired man turned his head to the side, quickly capturing Reno's lips before the moment passed. They shared a passionate kiss, gently exploring with their lips and sharing their tongues before they parted.

"I love you," Reeve murmured against his husband's mouth when the kiss ended.

Reno's lips curled into a smile. "I love you," he responded before hesitating, something strange passing into his eyes.

"Reno?" Reeve easily recognizing the shift in Reno's emotions. He had been with him long enough that even subtleties were noticed and translated.

"I've been thinking," the Turk quietly responded, his voice low enough that only his husband could hear. "That after all this mess… it might be time to start a family."

Reeve's breath caught in his throat. "What… what are you saying?"

Reno raised a brow. "You mean you don't want some little snot-nosed brat running around calling you dad, yo? Have I been reading all the signs wrong then?" He was teasing of course, but his expression was serious.

"I didn't think… We never…" The President paused, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. "I thought you weren't ready."

Reno shrugged, gaze shifting to the right where his eyes fell on Marlene and Denzel. He recalled their last fight and remembered the day when Reeve had taken care of the little rascals. It was something that he knew his husband really wanted, and honestly, it didn't sound like such a bad idea, not as much as it used to anyways. Perhaps he was just getting domesticated; perish the thought. Either way, Reno was ready to move on with his life.

"I wasn't, but now…" He paused as he grinned, returning his aquamarine gaze to capture that Reeve's. "Now, I'm pretty sure I am." He rubbed a comforting hand along the executive's back, idly noting that they had stopped dancing. "Just think about it. We could adopt or…" He shrugged. "I dunno. We'll find a way."

"Reis…" Reeve murmured, thinking back to his sister's offer.

"What?"

"Reis," the amber-eyed man responded, "she offered to surrogate before the wedding. She must have read your mind." He shook his head, locking his eyes with his husband. "Are you certain?"

Searching his heart, Reno already knew the answer. "As sure as I am that I love you," he replied, bending his head slightly to kiss his lover once more. This time, he slid his tongue into Reeve's mouth, claiming him and igniting a fire that quickly burned through their bodies. Perhaps it was just the moment. Maybe it was the music and the magic, or possibly it was the strength of their shared feelings. Yet, no matter the reason, the kiss was sweeter than the one before it and quickly joined the list of moments to be remembered in the Turk's mind.

Reeve's hand moved from his shoulder to press lightly on his head, encouraging the kiss to continue as their bodies moved in a familiar dance that instantly called for the removal of clothes. It was only the fact that they were still in view of most of their friends and associates that kept their movements tasteful, that and the eyes of children. They must not corrupt the young ones too early in life.

Reno swiped his tongue along the inside of his husband's mouth, hand already creeping down the President's back as he nibbled on the older man's bottom lip. "Bed," he said softly, breaking away for a moment before swooping back in and pressing his lips more firmly to Reeve's.

The President made a noise of acquiescence in his throat, and he ended their embrace, grabbing Reno's hand and swiftly pulling him in the direction of the exit. They ignored the glances many of their friends gave as they left the dance floor. Archer seemed particularly amused. Besides, Reeve was sure the party would dwindle down soon, but for the moment, he didn't care.

For all he knew, they could die tomorrow, and he was determined to make the most of it. With that mind, he pulled his husband out of the eyesight of the others, determined to find somewhere reasonably private where he could ravish Reno to his heart's content without scarring the children for life.

Reno, needless to say, did not put up much of a fight.

* * *

A/N: I suppose in retrospect I could have made this even longer and completely explained the wedding and the reception, but that would have extended this story by a couple of chapters. It's already ridiculously long enough as it is.

Thanks! Let me know if you liked it or not!


	60. Departure

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed!  
(Voice in mind)  
'Internal thought'  
Warning: Disturbing imagery, blood, gore, and graphic violence

**Chapter 60: Departure**

The cavern was once familiar, covered floor to spiky ceiling with the numerous bodies of ill-formed monsters and their allies. Their raucous cries of blood and destruction were a swell of degradation, shaking Gaia from within. The stench of unwashed carnivores and sulfurous breath permeated every neck and cranny.

But now, it was silent, a deathly quiet that was eerie even to one such as Alice Hojo. She had grown quite attached to all the intriguing blood-thirsty beasts. They made such good test subjects. Yet, as she walked the hollowed out hallways, the crisp click of her heels echoing around her, she was even more pleased that their true plans were coming to fruition.

The knights were completely submissive, her biochips an astounding success, though she couldn't even begin to fathom the long term effects on their sanity. They would probably end up stark raving mad, not that it bothered her in the slightest. The knights had been a worthy challenge but could not stand in the face of absolute science.

And the device had been completed as well, much to her enjoyment. Her life's work was compiled into this one scientific masterpiece that would alter the fate of Gaia and everything that lived upon it. She couldn't help but chortle in glee to herself. With her device, Balaam had nicknamed it Apocalypto, the world would be changed. She couldn't be more proud.

The sound of hissing voices filtered her direction, and Alice smirked in response. It was Balaam and his closest in command no doubt. With a brief adjustment of her chunky glasses, the scientist altered her original course and followed the sound. Rounding a corner, she ducked under an arch and found herself in one of the smaller alcoves that had been designated as a living space. This particular one belonged to the already defeated Azamat, hence the reason why it was small. The fallen demi-deity had been the weakest of the host's four, and Alice was glad that weak link had been snapped.

The three remaining deities hardly looked up as she entered, ignoring her altogether. She snorted in annoyance before plopping down gracelessly into a chair, completely uninvited.

"Why does Hojo's whore make her presence known?" Daunte hissed, none too approvingly. The masked demi-god was perhaps the creepiest of them all with his dead, soulless eyes and rasping voice.

Yet, Alice returned his stare without fear, giving him her own withering glance. "Most everyone has dispersed per Lord Balaam's orders. What is the next step?"

Balaam laughed, dry and raspy sound coming from his yet uncompleted form. But soon, very soon he would be whole, and the entire pantheon of deities above him would rue the day they ever crossed him, including those traitors. His eyes glowed from deep within his shadowed face, crimson coals of malicious intent.

"The fools head straight for my trap, just as I knew they would." He chuckled loudly as a clawed hand clenched. "Those imbeciles are leading their lambs to the slaughter. It is almost too easy."

"And Apocalypto?" Alice questioned, pushing up her glasses with one finger.

"In three days, this world can begin under a new chaos," Balaam cackled, his minions at his side joining in the raucous laughter.

Serpentine yellow eyes fell on Alice. "And what of Hojo's wife," the third demon rasped, one who's name she hadn't bothered to learn. "What will she do?"

"I told you before," she replied icily, indignation rearing its ugly head. "Hojo is dead. As for me. I'm no fighter. I'm going to remain here. I have interest in the General Sephiroth." Her eyes took on a maniac gleam. "I have several theories that I am most intrigued to test."

Balaam laughed at her words, the sound harsh and grating, lacking in sanity. He stood, stretching out his great wings and emanating his slowly returning power, feeling better than he had in decades. The mortals and their foolish faithful were unaware of his plans; they had no idea of what was truly in store for them.

He was determined. This time he would not fail; he would find his freedom or die trying. He refused to be sealed away again or locked away to be forgotten. He would fight to end with his dying breath.

"The time has come," he rumbled to the approval of those in his company. "Let us give the mortals a taste of true fear and ultimate defeat." Dark eyes burned with the force of his fury, and all those around him had to fight the urge to shiver.

Balaam merely smirked at that. "Let them come."

---

He ignored the knocking on the door, finding he would rather pretend he wasn't home than listen to the ranting of his father. Why the old man bothered when he had clearly moved out was beyond his comprehending. Besides, with that freaky, muscle-bound oaf Seraph gone, his house was fair game. Eben was living the life of luxury now. There were no rules, no worries.

He was more than glad Seraph had disappeared. The oddly quiet man had beat Eben up far too many times, and as if in remembrance, the cocky teen scrubbed a hand over his shoulder. Seraph had unusual strength, which made him somewhat frightening.

Not that Eben was scared. Nope. He didn't fear anything.

It was a bit disappointing, however, to search Seraph's abandoned home and find nothing of importance or interest. He would think that the man would have had lots of secrets, but there was nothing, not even a left behind sock. The knocking disappeared at his door, and Eben relished the silence, feeling utterly content as he grabbed the remote and clicked on the television, picking a channel at complete random.

A smirk on his face, Eben leaned back into his chair and stared at the screen, not even paying attention to the action flick on rerun, just relaxing in the lap of luxury. That was until a sudden low and fierce rumble shook the entire room, causing several gaudy knickknacks to tumble to the ground with a loud crash. He bolted upright, wondering if, for the first time in his life, he was experiencing an earthquake. What was he supposed to do in such situations again?

Another violent tremble rocked the building, and this time, Eben tumbled from his chair and scrambled to his feet, narrowly missing knocking himself in the head on the edge of the coffee table. The echoing boom of some loud explosion quickly informed him that this was no mere earthquake. His gaze flickered to the window, catching a dim, orange glow beyond the sheer fabric. His mouth dropping open in surprise, Eben raced to the front door, fumbling fingers unlocking the bolts on the third try.

He threw it open and stepped outside, skidding to an abrupt stop when his heart leapt up into his throat. His gaze first fell on the body of his father, mangled and torn in the snow several yards in front of him. Blood stained the ground, and he could feel the bile rising up in his mouth. Despite his anger and annoyance, that was still his father.

But before he could even begin to mourn, his eyes rose to the sky and the cause of his father's death. Demons were swarming into his sleepy, peaceful little town by the hundreds. Dragons, goblins, gargoyles, and creatures he had never seen before dropped down like deadly rain. Many spouted flame as they fell, catching rooftops on fire. Water streamed as snow abruptly melted, joining with the blood of the fallen and creating scarlet-streaked rivers.

Numb with surprise, his heart aching, Eben dumbly stepped out onto the walkway, his eyes widened with terror.

Why? So much destruction…

The acrid smell of ash and burning filtered his direction, and another fierce rumble rocked the town. Those monsters were destroying his hometown; when had they banded together to do such a thing? And why Icicle?

The echo of growling and scratching sounded from behind him. Fear gripped his heart as Eben slowly turned around, raising his eyes to the rooftop of the structure. Malevolent eyes gleamed down at him, offset by already blood-stained claws and a feral grin, and the fur around the creature's maw foamed and dripped with some nameless substance.

He didn't even have time to scream before the beast attacked, leaping directly on top of him, claws digging into his flesh. He grunted and growled, fighting back, blunt fingernails doing no damage against the heavier and stronger monster. Cold snow slipped down his back as he was brought to the ground, and he had only one thought before the jaws enclosed his head.

Why?

---

The wind stirred from the hovering Highwind made it seem much colder on the roof of the Neo-ShinRa building than it actually was. Cloud couldn't help the slight shudder that wracked his body, despite the mako that continuously warmed his blood. Or maybe the chill was more from circumstance, the fear that came before any major battle. It didn't matter that he wasn't himself participating; he feared for the lives of his friends. They might have been the strongest on Gaia, but they fought against immortals, extremely powerful demi-beings.

He was right to be concerned.

Chewing his lip in apprehension, Cloud's gaze roamed over those few gathered on the rooftop, most there to say goodbye to those getting ready to leave for. He could make out several couples. Cid and Vincent were already on aboard the Highwind, the Captain no doubt barking out orders, while Vincent gave him bemused stares. Archer was currently climbing the dropped ladder, having already said his brief farewells. Unlike the others, he wasn't leaving anyone behind, and at that point, Cloud couldn't really say whether or not that was a blessing.

Mako eyes shifted to the married couple, Reeve and Reno, a match he would have never suspected on his own. Reeve looked pained, his face drawn tight with worry, and Cloud knew without asking that he was still wishing that he could go along with the others. There was nothing worse than being forced to stay behind while your loved one fought without you, especially considering their foes.

He couldn't see what they were saying, but when Reno turned to head towards the Highwind, Cloud caught the flash of naked fear on the President's face moments before he grabbed his redheaded lover from behind. Reeve wrapped his arms tightly around Reno, and the blond turned away, immediately feeling as if he was intruding on a private moment. In that moment, he felt incredibly selfish, knowing that he was staying behind with his own precious love. In many ways, it wasn't fair.

His gaze shifted to a parting that was not quite so emotional, Yuffie and Nanaki, yet another relationship that he had not expected. He wasn't quite sure what was going on between the two, but judging from the blush in the ninja's cheeks and the way she kept glancing at him from beneath her lashes, there was something. She laughed as Nanaki teased her and punched him playfully on the arm. They were even being loud enough that he could hear a bit of their conversation.

"If you die on me, I'll take you out of hell and kill you again!" Yuffie warned, a stern look on her face.

Nanaki snorted, shaking his head at her. Cloud couldn't hear his response as he was much quieter than his Wutaiian friend, but he assumed the demi-human was assuring her. He tightened his Dragon's Claw as he spoke, tail waving about behind him, displaying the nervousness his cool demeanor refused to show.

Cloud felt a hand on his arm and half-turned to find his wife standing there beside him, a comforting smile on her face. "It's getting close to that time," she said, rubbing her belly with the other hand.

The former leader of AVALANCHE hmm'ed thoughtfully, watching with great amusement out of the corner of his eye as Nanaki glanced surreptitiously around him before kissing Yuffie lightly on the cheek and darting towards the ladder. He quickly climbed aboard, tail waving about significantly more jauntily than before. Yuffie, however, was blushing profusely, gaping at her best friend.

He chuckled before turning his attention back to Aeris. "If the emotions on this rooftop get any heavier, I doubt the building will be able to stand up beneath the pressure," he commented.

"Can you blame them?" Aeris questioned, her gaze shifting to Reeve as a sympathetic look crossed her face. The President was trying his best to composed and unworried, but he was failing miserably, watching as Reno climbed into the Highwind. "Back when we were fighting Sephiroth, we were altogether."

At the mention of the former General's name, Cloud couldn't help but find the man, their leader now, standing on the rooftop. Sephiroth seemed perfectly ready for battle: stoic, calm, thoughtful, even when faced with the continuous jibes and jokes of his best friend. That was understandable. Battle was what Sephiroth had been born for, what he had been _made_ into. He was in his element.

"And now we're fighting along the same side as him," Cloud mumbled, shaking his head. "Strange how thin the line between good and evil is."

"If there's even one at all," she murmured in response, squeezing his arm again to show her support.

The door to the rooftop suddenly squeaked open behind them, causing the married couple to turn in surprise. All those leaving were already present and accounted for. Therefore, it came as a surprise when Marlene and Denzel emerged, followed closely by a slightly weary Rude. The little girl seemed excited, her face flushed, but Denzel hung back, clearly troubled by something.

"Marlene!" exclaimed Aeris in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

It had been Cloud's decision that the children not come to the rooftop. He thought it would upset them, but he should have known better. These were children of war. They had survived through worse.

Brown eyes twinkled up at her. "I wanted to tell everyone good luck!" she chirped, refusing to relinquish her hold on her friend's hand. That was until her sharp gaze fell on her favorite victim, who was giving last minute instructions to his subordinate. The Wutaiian never knew what hit him.

"She's very persistent," Rude intoned as he joined Cloud and Aeris, a quiet Denzel clinging to his side.

The blond shook his head, lightly running a gloved hand over his face. "So I noticed," he commented from between parted fingers. His gaze traveled back to those still remaining on the rooftop, finding Sephiroth immediately, and Zack's loud voice drifted their direction.

"Balaam doesn't stand a chance, yo!" the spiky-haired man laughed, obviously mimicking Reno from the planning meeting. He shifted where he stood, the Zanken sword on his back rattling in its sheath, as if it, too, was anxious for battle.

Sephiroth groaned, shifting his sight away from his idiotic friend. "Zack, get on the ship," he ordered, turning back towards Cloud, intent on leaving a few more parting words. His eyes fell on Tseng and Marlene, the Turk Commander listening to the little fangirl babble on as Elena tried to restrain her chuckles at their side.

"Ah, Seph!" Zack latched on to his back, playfully nudging at his hair. The younger male was in full fool around mode today, a way to hide his nervousness about their upcoming battle, something Sephiroth recognized easily. "Don't you love me anymore?"

Silver eyes met mossy grey, and to his horror, the former General felt himself blush. He abruptly twisted away from the Turk Commander, running a hand through his hair as he did so and effectively dislodging the subordinate leech from his shoulder.

He turned one annoyed eye on his best friend. "Zack, get on the Highwind before I leave you behind."

Zack made a face before playfully saluting his commanding officer and turning on his heels. He blew a kiss to Elena, which she caught with a wink, before sauntering towards the waiting airship. Somehow, that action did not surprise either Sephiroth or Tseng. Both men had already suspected much, probably due to Rude and Aeris' discovery and subsequent rumors. Though not outright announcing their relationship, it appeared the two were beginning with subtleties. Most likely, it was Elena's idea. Zack never was one for delicacy.

"Bye, Mr. Tseng!" Marlene called out, waving happily to the Wutaiian as he followed Zack towards the airship, leaving Sephiroth the only one on the rooftop. "When you come back, we'll have another tea party."

The former General noted the Turk's grimace and had to stifle his own laughter. However, booted footsteps alerted him to Cloud's approach, and Sephiroth turned to greet the blond, knowing some final things needed to be said. Cloud seemed distracted, worried, more likely concerned for the fate of his companions, considering he was leaving them in someone else's hands.

"Take care of them," the blond said quietly. "They may be strong, but they're still… human. Don't forget that." The ex-soldier paused for a moment, a small grin curling at the corner of his mouth. "Well, for the most part," he amended, thinking of Nanaki.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "I was General of an army of imperfect soldiers, Cloud. I know their limits."

"Perhaps," his companion said softly. "But sometimes, they don't. I want to say bring them back alive, but considering your opponent, I don't know what to hope for."

Mossy eyes darkened. "We will win. There can be no other outcome." Sephiroth paused as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Remember, Balaam is the master of chaos. Don't leave Midgar for any reason."

"You really think he will attack?"

"I can't say." The former General frowned as he shifted his stance, folding his arms over his chest. His every instinct was raging at him to be wary, including the voice of Gilgamesh inside his head. He didn't know what Balaam was planning, but he was certain, one straight jaunt to the Lost Grounds might not be the end of it.

Cloud sighed. "Just come back alive… all of you."

Sephiroth nodded before turning away from the ex-SOLDIER, fully prepared to climb aboard the Highwind. There was nothing left to say, and now, only the battle stood before them. If he believed in a god, he might have thought to pray for them. But as it was, he was content to believe in their strength.

"Sephy!"

The former General turned in surprise at the call, eyes widening moments before a small form barreled into him, wrapping arms around his waist and burying a brunet head in his belly. He immediately recognized Denzel as the child clung to him, small shoulders shaking in silent sobs. Unsure what to do, he placed a gloved hand in the child's hair, trying to soothe him with a touch.

"Please don' die," Denzel whimpered, sniffling quite unattractively as he snuffled and wiped his nose on Sephiroth's shirt.

Sephiroth was speechless, unsure what to say to the boy. He knew that Denzel was searching for reassurance, but having very little experience with children, he didn't know what to say that wasn't the truth. And he refused to lie. That had happened to him far too much as a child. So he patted the boy's back in silence, eyes snapping up to look for someone vaguely Shera or Aeris-shaped to help him out.

The boy's hands tightened on his shirt as watery eyes looked right up at him. "Promise?" he questioned… no, demanded of the former general, lower lip trembling in a pitiful fashion.

Sephiroth chewed on the inside of his mouth in frustration before nodding, unsure of what else to say. "I don't die that easily, Denzel. I'm strong."

"Da' was strong, too," the boy put in stubbornly, more tears trailing down his face. "You can't promise, can you? 'Cause you're gonna leave."

Such honesty from a child. Sephiroth knew it was wrong in some fashion that the war should have torn innocence from him. And it reminded him all too well of his own sordid past, making his heart clench. He gulped, glancing up helplessly for some sort of aid.

He caught mako blue eyes, and Cloud came to his rescue. The blond wrapped arms around the little boy and worked to pull him away from Sephiroth, but Denzel refused to let go, afraid that if he did, he would never see his surrogate father again. In such a short time, he had already gotten irrevocably attached. Sephiroth was helpless in the face of such loyalty.

Finally, Cloud was able to pry Denzel away, but that did not stop the tears. "You're gonna leave, too," the little boy mumbled unhappily, turning limp in Cloud's arms. "I'll be alone again."

It was more than Sephiroth could take. "I'm not," he said with a shake of his head, surprising himself with the words that seem to come from nowhere. "You won't, Denzel. I… I promise." Strange how easily they fell from his lips, as if he could truly promise such a thing and expect it to come true just because he said so. He was strong; he was powerful. He was the great General, but for all intents and purposes, he was mortal. And Denzel knew that.

The brunet sniffled. "I don' believe you."

Sephiroth looked helplessly towards Cloud, but the blond just frowned. "Denzel, it's not that simple," he attempted to explain. But the child just cut him off with a violent shake to his head, having seen too many horrors of the world to take even his newest caretakers words at face value.

He acted completely on impulse then, hands going to the military tags around his neck. Remnants of a past he hated, something he had appeared out of the Lifestream with, that he couldn't seem to forget. To him, they meant nothing, but to a boy searching for a promise, something to cling to, they would be reassuring. He frowned down at the silver links for a moment, eyes tracing over his name on the flattened metal before stepping forward, gloved hands placing them around Denzel's neck. Brown eyes widened in surprise.

"These are only on loan," Sephiroth explained, somewhat shocked at his own sensitivity. As quickly as Denzel had become attached to him, he had become attached to the kid. It was strange and something he would have never expected. Just the knowledge that there was someone who believed in him so implicitly was enough to send his hope for this mission rising far above the level of dismal.

"I'm coming back for them."

Denzel nodded, and that was all Sephiroth needed to see. The hope shining in the boy's eyes was plain on his face.

"'Kay."

"I'll take care of him," Cloud inserted easily, mako eyes watching his former mentor almost curiously.

Sephiroth nodded before turning on his heels, the wind kicked up by the Highwind whipping about his frame. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

As Cloud watched him go, Aeris appeared at his side, a thoughtful frown on her face. Her gaze flickered to Denzel for a moment before watching Sephiroth's ascent into the airship.

"We have to evacuate Midgar," the ex-SOLDIER stated before she could even speak.

The flower-girl blinked. "Why?"

Cloud shook his head. "I don't know, and I can't explain it."

She sighed, her grip tightening on his arm as she watched the Highwind rumble and groan before rising in the air. "I sense it, too," she murmured. "I have a bad feeling about this entire venture." Her eyes followed Marlene as the little girl rushed past them, waving up excitedly at the departing airship, clearly believing entirely in the success of their group. "Somehow, I feel we're being played the fools."

"If there is a god, we had better start praying," Rude intoned from Cloud's other side. He adjusted his sunglasses with the tip of one finger, gaze locked on the Highwind that was quickly becoming little more than a speck in the sky. Though his own wife was safe with him, he still feared for his friends.

Suddenly, the door to the roof burst open with all the subtlety of a train whistle. Everyone present turned to find an unknown ShinRa soldier rushing towards them, waving about an unidentified document. He seemed anxious, eyes wide with fear as he stumbled towards them, gasping out an almost unintelligible phrase before depositing the document in Reeve's hands, the President moving to join all the others.

"What is it?" Elena asked, jogging up towards them.

Amber eyes quickly scanned the document before Reeve suddenly paled, wordlessly handing it over to Elena before looking up at Cloud. "It's Icicle," he said succinctly. "Something has attacked the town." He shifted where he stood, hand restlessly tapping the hidden daggers under his sleeve. "There's the possibility that it's Balaam."

"What?" Yuffie exclaimed, her gaze darting towards the Highwind. "But… what?"

Elena shook her head. "No, the force described here is too small to be Balaam's. Possibly just a scouting group or maybe--"

"Maybe he's trying to draw us out like Sephiroth suspected," Rude interrupted smoothly, jaw set tight with anger. "It must be a trap." He had to believe that it was anything but a coincidence, not with the Highwind completely out of sight already.

"We can't just abandon Icicle though," Reeve insisted. "They wouldn't stand a chance against the power of a demi-deity."

Elena shook her head. "We don't even know if it is Balaam. The report only talks about a horde of winged creatures."

The ninja scoffed, one hand stroking the edge of her shuriken. "I don't want to sit around on my ass here and wait. We're heroes, not bad guys. What would it look like if we abandoned them?"

Rude shook his head negatively. "I'm not leaving my _pregnant_ wife here, undefended," he stated stubbornly. There was a point in everyone's life when they had to choose, and Rude already knew where his loyalties laid. A sense of unease settled in his belly as he realized Sephiroth had been right. Balaam knew they were coming. It didn't bode well for those attacking the Lost Grounds, if there was even anything there for them to fight at all.

Cloud sighed, pinching his nose with one hand as he listened to them argue around him. Part of him raged to run immediately off to Icicle and start swinging his blade, but another part of him wanted to believe Sephiroth's order to remain in Midgar. But then, could his conscience take the abandonment of those innocent people?

He was left feeling like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and everyone looked to him for answers.

"I'm going," Reeve announced before Cloud even had a chance to think things through. "I can't sit by idly."

"Me, too!" volunteered Yuffie, all too excited to be finally joining the battle.

Cloud should have suspected that. Both were unhappy about being left behind. He felt a migraine beginning to develop as Aeris shifted beside him, frowning concernedly.

"But what if Sephiroth is right, and Balaam is just trying to divide us?" he inserted.

"We're already divided," the President insisted, amber eyes flashing. "And can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you can abandon them without a second thought? Because I can't." He couldn't help but wonder if Reeve was just desperate to find something to occupy himself other than worrying for his husband.

Yet, Cloud couldn't justify leaving Icicle to its fate. The hero part of himself, the one he could never deny that always seemed to rule his life wouldn't allow it. He was in charge of Midgar, and it was up to him.

He nodded. "All right. Take a helicopter and check out Icicle."

"I'm coming, too," Elena added in quickly, eyes darting between Reeve and Yuffie. "I promised Reno I'd not let Reeve do anything stupid."

Rude snorted as he moved to take Denzel from Cloud's arms and grabbed Marlene's hand. He turned on his heels as he shook his head and moved to the door, intent on taking the children with him.

"I think this qualifies as stupid," he muttered under his breath as he left.

Cloud followed his exit with a thoughtful gaze.

"Garret, find Sion and tell him to evacuate the rest of Neo-ShinRa and Midgar at once," Reeve ordered, speaking to the man who had brought him the missive. "I want all upper employees to convene at Fort Condor, all citizens to Kalm." He paused, thinking another moment. "Find Reis, my sister, as well. Tell her to not leave Shera's side."

The man, Garret, nodded quickly. He saluted the President with a quick snap of his wrist before turning on his heels and heading back into the Neo-ShinRa building, movements quick and efficient. Cloud only hoped that they weren't making a mistake.

---

On the bridge of the Highwind, it was relatively quiet, most of their passengers choosing to gather elsewhere. Cid had also dismissed everyone but the barest of his crew, explaining that it "wasn't no fucking game" and "go home to your &!#$ families." They had argued, but the pilot had been firm. Now, most were gone, and Vincent couldn't help but smile slightly as he watched his lover puttering around the bridge, fixing dials and adjusting switches.

At the present moment, the blond had his back to him and was muttering curses over some setting that wasn't fixed to his own definition of perfection. Tired of leaning against the wall and knowing that Cid was only fiddling for the sake of having something to do, Vincent strode across the bridge, surreptitiously glancing around him.

Yep, completely deserted.

He wrapped his arms around the pilot from behind, resting his chin on Cid's shoulder. "If you curse at it enough, will it fix itself?" he inquired, very bemused as he whispered in the pilot's ear. He curled his tongue out, wrapping it around the shell and absorbing the small shudder that wracked his lover's body.

Sky blue eyes rolled. "Ain't you the least bit concerned?" Cid replied shortly, turning his head to kiss Vincent. It was slow and sweet, a culmination of the strange and sorrowful events of the recent past. Their love had been tried and tested several times over, and proved to be strong and true, at least, by the end of this battle.

"What's the point?" returned the gunman mildly once their kiss had ended. "After all, you already promised you were jumping in after me." Grey eyes sparkled with a rarely seen before contentment.

Cid reddened at the reminder. "I would prefer to not have to," he responded gruffly, one calloused finger tweaking at an already tweaked switch as he returned his attention to the panel in front of him, ignoring the ex-Turk's soft chuckles behind him.

The intercom beeped just then, and the pilot reached for the button. "Yeah?"

Sephiroth's voice filtered in from the cargo bay, vaguely disrupted from the static. "Everyone's aboard, Captain. Let's get her in the air."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Cid simply responded, "Got it." The intercom clicked off as he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his stubbled face. It was so strange to heed orders coming from someone other than Cloud. He half expected to hear a "Let's mosey" and was slightly disappointed at the clipped, clearly confident, organized missive from Sephiroth.

"Time to save the world, chief," Vincent mumbled, undraping himself from Cid's back.

The pilot snorted. "_Again_," he commented before reaching forward and flipping on the intercom for the entire ship. "Hold on to sumthin'. We're taking off," he gruffly announced before clicking off, shifting towards the wheel.

Vincent chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall once more.

(Are you ready?) Erebus questioned, suddenly making an appearance within the gunman's mind. Vincent frowned, adjusting his balance as the Highwind began to lift into the air.

'I'm not sure what you mean by that,' he responded internally. 'I'm prepared to fight. I'm prepared to face Balaam.'

Erebus sighed. (Yes, there is that.) He paused, however, and Vincent could plainly hear the hesitation, which confused him even further. What was his anima trying to tell him? (Have you ever stopped to consider what is going to happen afterwards?)

The dark-haired man furrowed his brow. 'Afterwards? Is there something you've been keeping from me?'

The demi-deity was quiet for a moment as he considered his words. (You still haven't managed to summon your other. You will need his help against Balaam; I guarantee it. Balaam has some power that we know nothing about.)

'You've said so before. But I have a sense that's not what you were intending to tell me before.'

There was a swirl of darkness and cloaks, a pulse of shadows before suddenly Erebus appeared beside him. "You're right," he commented in response. "What do you think will happen to Balaam when you defeat him? Do you think a mortal can kill a demi-god?"

"I'm guessing not," Vincent replied. He eyed his anima critically. "What are you trying to say?"

Erebus sighed, tapping his scythe once against the ground. "We are not lawless beings. We live by guidelines, which are regulated by the Conclave. It is they who decided to lock up Balaam after the first betrayal and exiled him to the Lost Grounds. And after this battle, it is their decision which we have to follow through on."

"Decision," the gunman repeated. His eyes became narrow grey slits. "Quit circuiting around the issue. Just spit it out, Erebus."

The Underworld deity nodded before taking a breath, eyes flickering only once to the seemingly oblivious pilot. "Kami laid down strict rules when he gave us our powers. When Balaam is defeated, we had only two choices because we cannot just destroy him. That is impossible, against the rules. Thus, the reason he was sealed before, but we can't risk that again."

"Choices? What kind of choices, Erebus?"

If the older male could show his discomfort, Vincent was sure the deity would have been fidgeting. "We could either give up our powers as a whole… or subject the Host once more to the sealing."

"The Host…" Vincent murmured, quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. "You're talking about me. What exactly do you mean by sealing?"

(He means that you will have to take the four into your body again. It's the only way to keep them under control,) the other voice in his head answered. He knew it was Diablos but hadn't yet discovered that deity's other name. (The others refuse to give up their power to save one mortal. Not for the sake of Gaia.)

"You want me, now that I'm finally free, to have those voices again?" the former Turk hissed, eyes flashing angrily. "To suffer those nightmares? And that horror? When I hadn't even asked for it in the first place?"

Erebus flinched. "If it was up to me, I wouldn't. But it is not. It is still your choice."

"Except that it isn't," the gunman intoned lowly, pushing himself up off the wall violently as his hands clenched at his side. "Because if I don't, then what are your options?"

(Hojo has already conditioned your body to accept the demons,) Diablos answered. (Which means, in order to find another, we would have to have them suffer much the same. Mako treatments, Jenova applications--)

"In other words, torture!" Vincent growled. He heaved a deep sigh, anger beginning to burn within him.

"Torture? What the hell are ya talkin' bout, Vince?" Cid questioned, blue eyes darkening in concern. His gaze flickered to Erebus, narrowing slightly.

The gunman shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the floor. He wasn't sure how to put it into words, to tell his lover that everything they thought they had escaped from was about to return to haunt them again: the nightmares, the power, the bestial transformations… the immortality. Cid would die long before he did, and then, he would be alone again, forever trapped in a cursed body. And Vincent knew that as much as he hated what had been done to him, he couldn't allow it to happen to anyone else. He wouldn't be able to survive the guilt. He knew that this Conclave was aware of that, too, the bedamned selfish deities.

"Vince?" the pilot pressed. He stepped forward, putting a hand on Vincent's shoulder. He winced when he felt the stiffness in his lover's body and the slight tremble.

"Ask Erebus how they mean to win this war," Vincent replied lowly, not removing his gaze from the floor. The blue gaze automatically shot towards the demi-deity.

Erebus sighed again, instantly feeling like he had been shoved back onto the chopping block. "We need Vincent to take the four back into his body once we defeat him."

"No," Vincent sneered. "You don't want to give up your power, so you'll put it on someone else that's not part of your precious pantheon."

"You're not fuckin' serious," Cid argued. "There's no way in hell. He's been through enough!" The pilot looked towards his lover, hand tightening on his shoulder. "Vince?"

The gunman sighed, voice low and somewhat dull. "You know I can't say no, Cid. I won't let anyone else go through what I had to."

"It will make you immortal," Erebus explained, turning on his back, unable to watch the emotions flickering through their faces. He couldn't help the guilt that flowed through him from his inability to change the council's mind.

"#$# ridiculous!" cursed the pilot, glaring fully at the Underworld's deity back. "Gods in heaven or whatever you fuckin' call that up there, and you can't come up with no better option? What the hell good are you?"

"There are rules, all right?" Erebus snapped. "Decrees passed by Kami that we have to obey. If I could, I would change things, but I cannot. I tried to get them to find another way, but I'm one of the youngest. They are stuck in the old ways. It is the same reason we are fighting Balaam now."

Cid scowled. "That's bullshit! You're--"

"Enough!" roared Vincent, interrupting both of them. Two pairs of eyes turned towards the gunman and his uncharacteristic outburst. "Stop arguing, there's no need for it! Cid, you know that I can't say no."

Blue eyes darkened before the pilot grabbed Vincent by the shoulders, spinning the gunman around to face him and pushing him against the wall. "I know you don't want that," the pilot claimed, his voice low as he tried to lock eyes with his lover. "I don't want you to have to suffer again, Vince."

"I couldn't live with myself if I forced someone else to endure it. At least, I know what to expect, and I know, for a time, I won't have to go through it alone."

"Dammit." Cid sighed, as he leaned forward, his forehead lying on his lover's chest. "It wasn't 'sposed to be like this. It isn't fair."

The gunman swallowed thickly, not even having the words to comfort Cid, not when he couldn't even reassure himself. It certainly brought a new level to their upcoming battle against Balaam.

Erebus shook his head, and for the first time in his life, he wondered if maybe his birth father had been right in some ways. If the rules that Kami had laid down were to bring about this, perhaps they weren't so right after all.

---

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Leave a review before you go!


	61. The Lost Grounds

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Get ready, cause the next four chapters are all battle. **

**Chapter 61: The Lost Grounds**

Sephiroth was the last to drop down, letting go of the rope and hitting the ground with a crunch of booted feet over rocky soil. He signaled to the crewman above him, and the rope was quickly retracted. The Highwind planned to wait for them on the nearby Goblin Island, and with a rush of wind from the propellers, it flew away, leaving the small group of fighters down below.

After the initial sweep of the Lost Grounds, Sephiroth had realized it would be quite difficult to parachute in as three different groups. He had resolved to drop down and then separate from there before heading for what he could only assume was the entrance to the tunnels. He had the beginnings of the formation in his mind and was already dreading the task of separating everyone, half-afraid it would be a repeat of the previous meeting. As such, he had to resist the urge to rub a head that wasn't yet throbbing.

As his eyes raked over their group, he couldn't help but assess their chance for survival, fighting to keep his gaze from lingering far too long on a certain Turk's backside. Of the eight of them, only four had extensive military experience, and the battle was not going to be easy.

Briefly, his mind wandered to Midgar and the shiver of apprehension that had attacked him as they left. His feelings of unease lingered, setting him on edge. He couldn't shake the notion that something was terribly wrong.

"He has completely blinded us to his intentions," Gilgamesh murmured, suddenly appearing behind his animus in a swirl of crimson cloaks. As if he were a trigger, the others appeared as well in defining sparkles of light. Asclepius, especially, who was quite bouncy as she embraced Reno and giggled, much to the Turk's chagrin.

Sephiroth frowned in thought. "Will he realize we are here?"

"If he hasn't already suspected it, then no," responded another voice from the former general's side. Sephiroth turned to see Zack and his anima, the spiky-haired human giving him a ridiculous thumbs up. "Together, Tiamat and I have managed to mask our presence."

Zack sidled up to his best friend's side, nudging him with an elbow as he leaned upwards to Sephiroth's ear. "Better make sure to watch the battle and not Tseng's ass, ne?" he snickered, dancing out of the way before Sephiroth could swat at him. Green eyes cast him an annoyed look, but it simply went over Zack's head.

The former general strode forward, quickly gathering the attention of the others as he put himself in the middle of their group, feeling every eye on him. Any nervousness he might have felt for being leader faded. He was in his element; he could handle this. More delicate matters of the heart and relationships, perhaps not, but leading a battle against all odds was right up his alley.

"The plan will continue from here," he explained. "We will separate into three groups and make our way north to the cave entrance. I'm not sure what we will find there because of the extensive tree coverage. Approach with caution; do not enter until we all arrive."

His gaze swept over them, mind rapidly flipping through the catalogue of their strengths and weaknesses as they waited patiently. He quickly dismissed any thoughts of separating Cid and Vincent, even if it would be better. The headache involved in such a losing argument was not worth the trouble. He wanted to balance out the three oldest demi-deities among the separate groups, as well as keep their weakest members covered.

"Tseng, Reno, Zack, head to the left. Nanaki and Archer, to the right. Cid and Vincent, you guys are with me," he finally decided, critically examining the parties before mentally agreeing with himself.

They were indeed the best choice since he could not separate Highwind from Valentine. Nanaki and Archer were strong enough on their own. Sephiroth trusted himself to watch out for both Cid and Vincent, while Tseng, Reno, and Zack all had military training in some fashion and were a good balance of offense and defense.

"How far is the cave entrance from here?" Tseng questioned, already reaching to tie his hair back so that it would not get in the way of battle. It was probably a good idea, and Sephiroth considered doing the same.

"Twenty minutes give or take," Cid answered, finger twitching, just itching for a cigarette. "The Highwind's scans say that the ground's relatively even. It's only the underbrush we have to worry 'bout."

The Wutaiian nodded in understanding, one hand falling to his side as he finished the knot for his hair, dangling close to the hilt a katana. "We'll convene at the entrance then?"

"Wait a minute," Reno interrupted, holding up a hand and stepping into the middle of their group. He raised a reddish brow at them. "What'll we do if we actually come across one of these deities, yo? Asclepius told me we can't kill a demi-god."

Gilgamesh's deep voice rose up easily over the others, who were beginning to exchange concerned and slightly irritated glances. No one had ever explained anything to anyone, it seemed.

"He is right," the oldest deity clarified with a slight swirl of his crimson cloak. "No mortal can slay a demi-deity, and indeed, if one were able to the destruction involved would kill them in the process and anyone nearby. You can, however, defeat a demi-deity. It will send them back to Elysium and most likely into the custody of those who remain neutral in the battle and await Kami's judgment."

Archer frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let me get this straight," he inserted, drawing all attention towards himself. "Killing a demi-deity, something we can't do… is deadly?"

Tiamat nodded as she placed a hand on her animus' shoulder, shooting him an amused look. "Right, my dragonet. The release of magic and power involved in slaying any demi-deity can be quite catastrophic. The crater caused by the destruction of Ultimate Weapon is nothing compared to what will happen should any one of us be slain."

The engineer's face paled at the reminder of the nearly desolate area of land just south of Cosmo Canyon. Ultimate Weapon's death had destroyed almost half of the ancient forest there, taking out three mountains and flattening what had once been rolling hills. Nothing grew there any longer, and many people shied away from the space, claiming that a strange aura of power and magic emanated from it.

"If one were to fall here, it would be enough to obliterate half of this island, if not more," Heimdal added in grimly, usually cheerful face sobering with the truth of what they had yet to do.

When Archer paled further, his face taking on the same look as some of his companions, Tiamat shot the older deity an annoyed stare before patting her animus soothingly on the shoulder.

"Do not worry," she put in soothingly. "Only another deity is capable of such a defeat, and we do not want to see that happen. There are few enough of us, and we simply cannot afford to upset the delicate balance. The loss of Kronos still weighs heavily on many of us."

Silence fell for a moment until Nanaki asked the question that had been plaguing the minds of all the mortals. "Do we even stand a chance against them?" the demi-human asked in all practicality, his voice quiet as his tail twitched behind him. "Are any one of us strong enough to take on a demi-deity and survive?"

"Yes," answered Erebus honestly and quickly before any of them stewed on the question for too long. "You have done it before, and you can again. The Bandragora in Wutai and Mabuz in Midgar… it's not easy, but you _can_ do it."

Sephiroth sighed, not liking the somewhat hopeless tone that had taken over their group. They were fighters, most of them, and the strongest on Gaia. If their nerve failed them before they even entered the caves, there was no hope for the planet. As strong as Sephiroth was, even he could not take on Balaam and cronies by himself. All that would accomplish would be his own death. Again.

"Enough!" he declared sharply, raking his gaze over everyone and slicing a hand through the air with an aura of finality. "We knew what this would entail before we even set foot on this island." Fourteen pairs of eyes, deity and mortal alike, turned to him. "You want to say it's over before it begins simply because it is too difficult?" he demanded, voice reprimanding.

"Oy!" Reno interrupted, face flushing with anger and perhaps a bit of embarrassment. "We didn't say we were giving up."

Mossy green eyes flickered his direction, hard and unyielding. "No, but you were thinking it. I could see it in your face. You stopped me once before, remember? This is just a step up. Right now, we don't have time to think "what ifs" and "how tos". All we can do is fight. And _win_."

It wasn't exactly a stirring, uplifting speech or even a blast of hope. It didn't really rally their spirits or even make Sephiroth feel like he had accomplished anything by saying it. Yet, judging from the look in their eyes, something had clicked. He wasn't sure how to describe it as uncertain with the emotions of others as he was, but he did know that part of the battle had been won.

Now, for the easy part.

It was then that a hand clamped down on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before falling away. From the corner of his gaze, he caught Zack's self-assured grin and was comforted by it, even when the other man suddenly laughed outright, nearly startling the others in the group.

"Well… I, for one, am tired of standing around. How about it, Tseng? Reno? Read to take on some baddies?" he asked rhetorically, with a none-too-subtle tap to the hilt of his sword. The two Turks nodded in agreement, Tseng's face filled with determination, while Reno's cocky grin had returned full force.

Sephiroth nodded. "Good." His gaze wandered to the sky, gauging the time briefly. "We're not likely to run out of daylight; nevertheless, time is against us. Move out."

He hadn't expected them to snap to attention or salute, but still, shrugging shoulders and wordless movement was a bit anti-climactic. He sighed and resisted the urge to pinch his nose. Again, there was the fleeting thought that giving him command was Cloud's form of revenge. If he knew anything of children, he would've likened the entire group to a schoolyard full of them.

Well, perhaps not all of them. His eyes wandered of their own accord to a certain backside, covered in shifting dark cloth, and before he knew it, he was blushing in mortification. He jerked his gaze away and angled his body to the side, away from the temptation. Now was definitely not the time!

"You are adapting well to your new role," a deep voice rumbled from beside him, sounding faintly bemused. "Not exactly a stirring speech but effective." Gilgamesh laughed as Sephiroth shot him an annoyed look.

Erebus huffed, rolling his eyes. "Grandfather, you are incorrigible," he commented, though he was clearly trying to hold in his own mirth.

"So pleased that I could be a source of amusement for immortal beings," Sephiroth muttered as the sounds of the other groups tromping through the bushes began to fade to even his enhanced senses. He sighed and tucked a few strands of hair behind his ears. "Shall we go then?" he asked Cid and Vincent, ignoring Gilgamesh's chortles.

The gunman nodded, and the rather large group of five took off towards the general direction of the caves. It wasn't easy. The underbrush was thick and wild with spiny shrubs and closely packed trees. Sephiroth grimaced when forced to use his sword as a machete, Gilgamesh harassing him every step of the way for using such an elegant weapon as a mere weed whacker.

He kept his senses on high alert, eyes constantly scanning the dim forest and ears twitching at every sound, not that there were any. It was the absence of noise that was worrisome. His stomach coiled faintly with apprehension, and he couldn't help but feel there was something terribly wrong, even if the evidence proved otherwise.

It was in that moment that his scattered thoughts turned to Cloud and the others left behind in Midgar. He wondered if Balaam truly would attack when they were unaware, if they would actually listen to his orders. The President certainly seemed very stubborn, and Cloud was easily swayed by his guilt or hero complex. Suddenly, Sephiroth was not so sure of his plan, even if there was no turning back.

(If you doubt yourself, what do you think will happen to them?) Gilgamesh questioned, choosing to speak telepathically. (They are strong, yes. Still, without a firm leader, they will crumble. Why do you think Cloud chose you rather than assigning one of them… or worse, none at all?)

Sephiroth frowned in thought, eyes narrowing slightly. 'I'm sure someone else--'

Gilgamesh snorted derisively. (Who? Name one that could somehow bond these personalities together and create a cohesive unit. Name one that could stand and take the burden.)

The former General went silent for a moment as he considered the question. His first thought was, of course, Tseng since the man was Commander in his own right. While the Wutaiian was dependable and knew more about battle tactics than most, he also staunchly refused to acknowledge his anima and was still wary around the other demi-deities. Truthfully, Tseng avoided them whenever possible and was weakened in a battle against other demi-deities by that fact.

Zack, while strong and not easily deterred, had always been a follower more than a leader. He did fine with small groups and, ironically, low detection missions that required speed and force. But long-standing strategy and large groups of soldiers had always left him somewhat baffled. It was the reason that he had never made it into any position of high command, despite the fact that he was a SOLDIER first-class. Still, it suited Zack just fine as he was always content to serve under Sephiroth.

With his two greatest prospects shoved aside, the others were more easily dismissed. The demi-human was intelligent and powerful, but he was not aggressive enough and would fold under pressure. Valentine had to be forced to take action; he was not a pre-emptive man at all. Tuesti made a good President but was far too emotional for battle tactics, not to mention that he sometimes had trouble seeing beyond the well-established lines of black and white. Highwind was easily overwhelmed, and Reno was far too reckless. Archer and Aeris were just too nice, the ninja and the female Turk too inexperienced. Rude was the only other suitable person, but he never would have left his wife.

Gilgamesh had a point; something he conceded with much reluctance. Of the entire group, Sephiroth was the best choice, and somehow, Cloud had known that. It was slightly worrisome, especially considering his unstable mentality. Then again, their entire group was a bit off in the head in some way or another. Only insane people would walk blindly into the lion's den, such as they were doing now.

(Or fools,) Gilgamesh muttered, chuckling faintly. (Perhaps you are a bit of both.)

The former General sighed and shook his head, returning his attention to the task at hand. The others had been rather quiet, and there was a subtle bead of tension to the air. It didn't appear that they were arguing, merely thinking dark and troubling thoughts, and while it wasn't unusual for Valentine to be silent and broody, the dark clouds hanging over the pilot's head were baffling. Erebus seemed distracted as well, skeletal hand clutched a bit too tightly to his scythe.

It was somewhat disconcerting, and Sephiroth wasn't sure if it was any of his business to ask. He really didn't want to know anything about a lover's spat, but considering the dangerous situation they were about to walk into, he had to make sure that they were both attentive and ready. Debating a course of action in his mind, he was mildly surprised when he swept his blade through another thick bundle of vines and brush, only to find himself staring at an open space and three gaping holes in the side of the mountain.

The entrance to the caves.

One was bigger than the rest, nearly twice his height and wide enough for six people to walk abreast. The other two, on opposite sides of the large tunnel, were perhaps eight feet high with allowance for two to walk side by side. He couldn't be certain with just a glance, however, which they should take. Both seemed equally used and worn. The ground had been swept clean as well, and no footprints were visible.

To his right, he briefly caught a glimpse of Nanaki's team stepping out of the brush and heard, more than saw Zack's group appearing to the left. They had arrived at nearly the same moment.

"So…" Reno began, strolling out of the forest and looking none the worse for wear. On his other side, Tseng looked quite disgruntled, picking a few stray leaves from his dark hair. "Which one, yo?"

"First things first… anything unusual to report?" Sephiroth asked as he withdrew a cloth from one of his pockets and proceeded to clean the tree sap and plant juices from his sword. One eye watched the cave entrances as he only half-listened to their responses. The tunnels appeared smooth, as if worn over with time and lacking the dangerous wall and ceiling projections of most mountain passages.

Nanaki shook his head, unconsciously tightening the Dragon Claw on his fist. "Clear and quiet… almost too quiet. Something strange is going on."

"I cannot shake the feeling that we are in over our heads," Tseng murmured. "Nevertheless, we encountered nothing worrisome either, only overgrown forest but very little wildlife and absolutely no tracks. According to Asclepius, there is nothing of interest here. At least, above the surface."

Zack grinned then, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward and stood directly before the caves, cocking an arrogant eyebrow at them. "And that is where we come in," he suggested, trading glances with his anima.

Fenrir merely nodded, appearing beside the mortal. The rest of the group watched in fascinated silence, not even bothering to question what they were doing.

Both males knelt suddenly, pressing a palm flat to the ground. A swift undulation of power, light and slightly airy, emanated from them, rippling through the gathered companions and making their hair stand on end. The ground shuddered briefly, barely even noticeable to the others as the animum pair concentrated solely on the task in front of them.

"Ah," Gilgamesh murmured in understanding. "It has been so long since I have seen Fenrir in action that I have nearly forgotten one of his more useful skills." He stepped up beside his animus with a faint swish of his cloak, his unused swords rattling in their sheaths.

Sephiroth raised a silverish brow. "Oh?"

"Earth-Sense. He's feeling out the lay of the land or, more precisely, sensing the distribution of the tunnels beneath the surface," Gilgamesh explained. "Hopefully, we can figure out where these go without even entering them."

"Hmm." The former General pursed his lips in thought before half-turning towards the older demi-deity, a sudden realization striking him. "What kind of compensation can I expect from being stuck with you?" he asked, referring to Zack's obvious ability to bond with stone and dirt much like Heimdal.

The God of Destruction smirked. "You mean you haven't noticed already? You're stronger and faster, even more so than usual. Wait until battle. Then, you'll see the true changes."

"Done!" Zack declared, rising to his feet with a triumphant look on his face and interrupting his commander's conversation.

"Well?" Sephiroth prompted.

It was Heimdal who answered, "Below us is a rather large cavern, certainly big enough to house five of the Highwinds, if not more. It seems all three of these tunnels connect to it, so no matter which we pick, we will find our way there. I am assuming that is where we will find Balaam."

The former General listened with a military air, already reshaping and modifying his plan to suit the circumstance. "They all connect to the same cavern, which is convenient. Yet, we should still take all three tunnels," he commented thoughtfully. "If we all bunch in one, we risk not knowing what will be waiting in the others." He turned towards Heimdal. "I assume you cannot tell me if there are any enemies?"

Heimdal shook his head. "I can sense the lay of the land but not if anything is within it."

"But there is _something _here," Suzaku inserted easily, her dulcet tones a nice change from the purely male voices. "I can feel it; all of us can. The sick and tainted presence of malevolence and ill will. I do not know what form it takes, however, so be prepared for anything."

"Very well." Sephiroth nodded before gesturing to the tunnel on the right. "Same formations as before; I'll take the largest in the middle. If you encounter anything, take it out quickly and quietly."

Zack grinned and saluted goofily before leading his group towards the tunnel on their right. Nanaki and Archer merely inclined their heads in acknowledgement as they headed to the left. Giving one last glance to the eerily silent forest behind them, Sephiroth turned and was the first to enter the largest cave, the others following silently behind him.

The first thing he noticed was how chilly and damp it was inside, making his clothes feel much heavier in the darkness. Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the contours, as well as the fact that the cavern steadily sloped behind him. A muffled curse let him know that Highwind had entered, and he could only assume that meant the pilot couldn't see in the dark.

The smell hit him next, thick, musty, and rather like a forgotten and now unused basement. He also detected faint traces of sulfur and smoke. That in itself wasn't enough confirmation that Balaam was there. Yet, the vague and fleeting sense of _presence _was.

Suzaku had been correct. Something was here. They just didn't know what.

Sephiroth kept a steady, quickened pace, the faint sounds of four sets of feet assuring him that the others were able to keep up. Still, the feeling of tension remained, an unknown shadow hanging heavily over the heads of the lovers, and it was rapidly beginning to irritate the former General. More or less, it was a distraction they could not afford. Deciding to risk it and having little training in the delicacy of such matters, he bluntly dove in, demanding answers.

"All right," he put in lowly and suddenly. "What is going on with you two?" he pressed, throwing them an annoyed stare over his shoulder.

Valentine's eyes narrowed; he could see their slight mako tint in the dark. On the other hand, Highwind scowled, clearly not intending to answer. Erebus seemed to stiffen before quickly regaining his composure. Obviously, there was something of importance there, and he was determined to find out.

(Your ineptitude in such matters is clearly comical,) Gilgamesh commented, sending him a mental chuckle.

The former General rolled his eyes and reiterated the question. "This tension is stifling," he continued. "We've no time for a simple lover's spat, so fix it already; lest the distraction leads us all to our deaths."

"It's not a 'lover's spat'," Highwind muttered, cutting his eyes at the heavily cloaked demi-deity on the other side of Vincent, a motion that Sephiroth did not fail to catch. "I jes don't like being used."

Vincent sighed. "Cid--"

The pilot sliced a hand through the air. "You know it. I know it. Even _he _knows it," Cid spat, jabbing a finger accusingly towards Erebus. "They're cowards, all too willing to sacrifice someone else so long as they don't have to break the rules." He was sneering viciously now, and Sephiroth raised a brow, gaze flickering between the three.

"Ah, I see now," Gilgamesh commented in comprehension from beside Sephiroth. He leveled his gaze on his grandson, causing Erebus to squirm faintly. "You told them then."

Erebus nodded. "It was time that they knew, especially since the Council refuses to change their mind." He sighed as the butt of his scythe thudded against the stone floor. "They do not understand that I am powerless in this matter, and so they blame me."

"Not you alone," Vincent clarified. "Cid is merely angry and taking it out on the nearest representation of the reason why."

The pilot snorted. "'Merely' doesn't cover it, Val. If I could wring damned immortal neck, I would."

"Wait a moment," Sephiroth interrupted, even more confused than he was before, especially since it was clear no one was going to clearly explain anything. "Explain." He drew to a halt, whirling around to face them. "Please," he added.

Beside him, Gilgamesh exhaled sharply. "We are stuck in our old ways, Sephiroth, and it is Valentine who must bear the burden of it." He crossed his arms over his chest, rattling the sheaths on his back. "He doesn't look forward to regaining his former… curse."

"Curse?" Cid demanded, voice sharp with fury. "You wanna call that a simple curse? He'll fuckin' live forever, infested by those… _things_!! Balaam'll never exist quietly, and he'll always be fuckin' fightin' with his damn self. That ain't a curse; that's damn hell on Gaia."

The Captain's blustered and vulgar babble did not elucidate anything for Sephiroth. He sighed internally and turned his attention to Valentine, certain that the ex-Turk could provide a more coherent explanation. Since the former General had no clear knowledge of Vincent's past, he was at a loss.

Vincent shook his head and laid a hand on the blond's shoulder, attempting to calm him. It was only then that Sephiroth noticed that he was mysteriously wearing the golden claw once more.

"Balaam and his three most loyal were once a part of me, fused with my mind and body. I was altered because of it, and one symptom was my immortality," Vincent explained quietly, a strained note to his voice. "Due to a series of events orchestrated by Balaam, they managed to separate from me. It lessened my strength to around the level of a first-class SOLDIER."

Green eyes blinked in understanding. "Very well. Then, what has Highwind all riled up?"

"The gods are cowards," Cid interjected sourly, considerably calmer than before. "'Cause of some stupid rule, they can't kill Balaam. And between giving up their precious power or making Vincent be the 'host' again, they chose the path of the least fuckin' balls." He shook his head, movements jerky with barely restrained anger. "Vin's too good a guy to let anyone else go through the same thing as him."

Clarity dawned in Sephiroth just then, and he understood completely. It was not unlike someone ordering him to willingly accept JENOVA back into his body for the "good" of others. The thought alone made him shudder, and yet, it was to be Vincent's fate. Sympathy welled up inside of him, along with anger not unlike Highwind's.

"I find it hard to believe that was the only option that the wisest of the deities could come up with."

Gilgamesh merely shrugged. "It is."

The former General sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he felt the creeping annoyance of yet another migraine. He seemed to be getting those quite frequently as of late.

"You've already agreed to it, I presume. Is that the reason for the reappearance of the claw?"

Grey eyes flickered briefly to the golden appendage before returning to Sephiroth. "I had little choice but to. The claw, however, was simply useful as a weapon should I need it and has nothing to do with being the host." His face twisted with the sudden return of terrible memories.

Whether it was cowardice or tact, Sephiroth wasn't sure. But he wasn't about to ask Vincent about his experiences. It was enough to know that he hadn't been alone in his suffering under Hojo. If there was one thing he and Valentine had in common, it was their treatment at the hands of that sick and demented monster.

Nodding with tight movements, the former general turned and started back down the tunnel. "We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it," he declared shortly, pleased to find that they started after him almost immediately. "For now, until we can see Balaam face to face, we will not worry about it."

They spent the rest of the journey in silence, not that Sephiroth minded since he was consumed by his own thoughts. It was eerie and not comforting in the slightest. They encountered no enemies, felt no presence, though the unnatural feeling that they weren't alone didn't leave, in spite of the lack of evidence. They continued to descend further below the surface.

The appearance of the torches, flickering gently in the wake of their movements as they lined the tunnel, was the first sign that they were getting close to something, even if they didn't know what it was. Cid muttered about walking directly into the jaws of the enemy, but Sephiroth scantily paid him any attention, especially when it appeared they were approaching the end of the tunnel.

They stepped out into a large cavern, perhaps even bigger than Heimdal had described. The ceiling was high and darkened, thick and jagged spikes of rock jutting down. Sephiroth hoped that they were stable and unlikely to fall anytime soon. Just one was enough to kill any member of his party.

The far side of the cavern was buried in shadows and rather difficult to discern, despite the entire space being lit by torches. It carried the same odor of decay and sulfur as the tunnels, but it seemed even fainter, more of a lingering odor than an actual scent. A tingle of apprehension raced down Sephiroth's spine, and he frowned, face darkening as he swept his eyes to the side.

"There's nothing here," Vincent commented softly, one hand hovering unnaturally close to his gun, as if he had expected to draw it at a moment's notice and fight for his life. It probably wasn't that far from the truth.

Voices alerted him to the presence of the others, and Sephiroth's group turned around, only to see the other two parties emerging from separate tunnels on either side them. No one looked worse for wear. Zack and Archer especially seemed bored. The former SOLDIER was tossing some ball up and down in his hand, only to bounce it against the ground and catch it once more.

"It is too quiet," Tseng commented as he stepped further into the room, sweeping his silvery gaze around. His brow furrowed. "The lack of enemies is too convenient. What have we walked into?"

Sephiroth agreed with the Turk's assessment, his boots echoing hollowly through the open space as he headed towards the far end. The others began to spread out behind him, still somewhat clumping together in uneasy groups. He couldn't see anything, and yet, the feeling that they were being watched did not fade. The sensation of a presence was so strong that he nearly choked on it, leaving the former General thoroughly confused.

Bubbly Asclepius was the first to spot the strange object on the other side of the cavern, her eyes obviously sharper than most. "Look!" she announced, jabbing Reno in the side to get his attention. "It's a throne!"

"So it is," the Turk responded dryly. "How very amazin', yo." He rolled his eyes, balancing his Electro Rod on his shoulder with practiced movements. Like most of the others, he looked very bored as he adjusted his sunglasses, pushing them further up on his forehead.

Sephiroth tuned their playful teasing out of his mind as his eyes caught on something that just didn't settle right in his mind. He wasn't certain why, but there was something decidedly odd about the seemingly empty cavern. The torches flickered lightly, only disturbed by their passage as there was no circulation of air, and the silhouettes on the floor should have reflected that. Yet, they didn't seem to waver in the slightest. The shadows were extended, jagged…

Sephiroth's eyes widened in understanding and realization. He whipped around, mouth falling open to bark out orders and alert everyone else, but suddenly, darkness fell as every torch was snuffed out in the same moment, plunging them into utter confusion. His words died in his throat, and he whirled, trying to catch sight of any one of his companions and only able to detect approximately five bodies around him, possibly another. He could sense Gilgamesh, but that was about it.

Then, something scraped across the ground, and he heard the distinct sound of an object rolling before sliding into a niche with a very final thump. Even though he couldn't see it, he knew that the entrances had been sealed.

"Trap," he hissed in recognition, though he had been prepared for it. "I knew it." He swept his gaze through the darkness, finally managing to spot the dim flicker of Nanaki's tail in the distance, nowhere near his small group. The team had been separated.

"Suzaku! Nanaki! Light!"

"Sir!" Nanaki's voice echoed throughout the cavern seconds before a flare flashed throughout the entire cave as Suzaku transformed into her larger form, that of a the flame-streaked phoenix. With a flap of her powerful wings, she swept up into the air, brilliant plume brightening everything.

The torches relit with astounding quickness, revealing that it was as Sephiroth had feared. They were surrounded by enemies, large and small, with mirroring expressions of malice and murder. The creatures clung to every available space within the cavern including the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. With their appearance came the overpowering stench of death and smoke, as well as a crushing sensation of being surrounded by malevolence. Weapons gleamed in their claws, and Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder how so many had remained hidden.

His weapon was in his hand before he had another thought, and those nearest to him immediately closed ranks. They had been separated from the others by an influx of enemies, but Sephiroth trusted that they would be able to take care of themselves. He only wished he could contact them to be sure they were well.

"They must have been hiding behind a cloaking spell," Gilgamesh murmured from beside his animus, the disgust clear in his tone. "It is not a difficult task for Raidne."

Sephiroth frowned, opening his mouth to respond, but unexpectedly, mocking laughter rang through the cavern, nearly ear-splitting in its loudness. He whirled around, zeroing in on the location of the chortle as the monsters behind him immediately parted to reveal the throne on the far side. No longer unoccupied, the form sitting upon it was recognizable even to Sephiroth. He well remembered the look of the creature that had taken Jenova and he down in the Northern Crater. Four equally demonic beings flanked the throne, malevolence clear in their expression.

"Truly, the world is doomed if you fools are the best the 'faithful' have to offer," Balaam boomed, reclining comfortably. He didn't seem the least bit worried about their presence; if anything, he was assured of his victory.

The thought angered Sephiroth, and his hand clenched tightly to the hilt of the borrowed sword. He grit his teeth as his eyes narrowed.

"This ends here."

Balaam cackled as his deep red eyes flashed, the fires of the underworld seemingly glowing behind them. "So you think," he hissed as he jerked to his feet, half-formed wings snapping out behind him. "Kill them."

A ragged, throaty cheer rose up from the monsters as they rushed forward to attack, wasting no time. There were hordes of them, far more than Sephiroth could even count, pouring from the tunnels and creeping out of hidden crevices. The walls were teeming with creatures, so much so that it seemed the rock itself was alive. Sephiroth lost sight of Balaam and his throne in the press of bodies.

"Stick together!" the former General frantically ordered above the din. He immediately drew near to Zack, standing back to back with his best friend as they were surrounded by enemies. He quickly tossed out a few flares of Fire 3 at the first wave of demons and creatures, recognizing very few of them. They were kinds he had never encountered before.

Behind him, Zack was hacking away with heavy-handed blows, clearing a wide path with the Zanken. "Just like old times, ne?" he shouted above the noises of death cries and throes of pain.

Sephiroth grimaced, bringing up his borrowed blade to block a clumsy swing from a pig-faced creature before neatly decapitating it. "Those were nothing compared to the old times," he responded in a clipped tone as he turned to skewer the sallow-faced goblin that was attempting to flank him. Another burst of fire flared from his hands, burning several of the nearer enemies to a crisp.

Zack laughed, pausing for only a moment to nudge the former General with his elbow. "Say, you aren't feeling a bit… sneezy are you?"

The other man rolled his eyes. "That was an accident," he retorted.

Zack snickered in return.

A plume of orange-red fire to the south of them caught his attention. It was a small comfort as Sephiroth clearly recognized Suzaku's handiwork. He raked his gaze over the battlefield as well as he could, keeping one eye on the enemies that dared come too close.

He managed to spot Archer and Tiamat fighting together, the human's axe rising and falling with deadly accuracy. His anima had taken on her larger form, and her huge claws and sharpened fangs were making short work of every creature that dared approach. Sephiroth noticed with a faint grimace that many of her victims were melting under her acidic saliva and that some of the monsters Archer touched were quickly taken over by a paralyzing poison. The perks of being bonded he supposed.

Unlike himself.

He swept his eyes to the right and managed to spot the bright red of Gilgamesh's cloak. The demi-deity was by himself, encircled by a sea of monsters, but that didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He fought with all three blades, and Sephiroth didn't know he did it. Yet, his anima was managing to fight using the third in his mouth. He had never seen anything like it.

Gilgamesh seemed to love the thrill of combat, his movements so fluid that he was practically dancing as he cut his way through the press of enemies. He even managed to take out several Behemoths in one fell swoop. Sephiroth knew that was no easy task, even for someone like himself.

A sniveling bunch of Frogs wandered too closely to Sephiroth, and he sliced through them with the long reach of the borrowed Masamune, almost bored as he cast a spray of Comets down on the others. Afterwards, his leader's intuition again forced him to search out the others, if only to be able to keep tabs on them.

Much like Gilgamesh, Zack's anima was also fighting by himself, though he kept his human form. Fenrir was simultaneously turning most of the monsters to stone and then slamming the butt end of his weighted staff into them, causing the creatures to shatter. He was incredibly agile, oftentimes twisting above the monsters' heads or using their bodies as trampolines. If Sephiroth wasn't already in a fight for his life, he would have probably found the dumb-struck expressions the demons' faces amusing.

"Can you see the others?" Zack hollered, quickly gaining Sephiroth's attention.

The former General shook his head. "No," he called back, and then, his ears perked up, enhanced hearing easily distinguishing the noise of a gunshot above the death cries. "But I can hear Vincent, at least."

"They are alive," Gilgamesh called back, briefly grinning at them before dispatching the head of another Behemoth. "Trust in their abilities."

Sephiroth blinked. Used to leading armies of foot soldiers, most of whom were little more than cannon fodder, relying on others to not get themselves killed was somewhat of a foreign concept. He had always learned under ShinRa that the only person he could count on was himself, Zack excluded, especially on the field of battle. Other leaders, other soldiers, their skills were sorely lacking, and he spent most of his time making sure they didn't do something stupid.

This was all so very different.

The others in the group might not have been on his level of strength, except perhaps a few, but they were definitely stronger and more battle-literate than any other group he had ever led or fought beside. They were paired with demi-deities, whose powers he couldn't even fathom, and for once, Sephiroth realized he hadn't gone into combat worrying over how many idiots he would lose.

Gilgamesh was right.

A weapon flashed in the dim torchlight, and Sephiroth's attention was quickly diverted. He dodged to the right far faster than the attacking beast could contemplate and slashed through it in return. Another approached from the side, and he didn't even turn before throwing a spell out behind him. It might have been an Ice 3; he wasn't even certain of what he was using anymore. Or if he even had some of the magic he cast equipped as materia.

He turned to find Zack, belatedly realizing that somewhere in the melee they had become separated. The distance wasn't far, but his partner had the habit of not watching his back. Sephiroth stepped towards the spiky-haired man, only to feel a shiver of cold dread race down his spine as his instincts flared.

Whirling around, sword clutched in his hand, his heart dropped into his stomach. Not one… but two demi-deities approached him. He recognized neither, but it was clear both planned on fighting him simultaneously. Death reflected in twin, empty gazes.

Swallowing thickly, Sephiroth turned to meet his fate.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Review before you go!


	62. Mabuz's Return

Warning: Blood, Gore, and Graphic Violence The M rating isn't just for sex!   
Chapter 62: Mabuz's Return 

It was nearly silent in the helicopter, except for the sound of the whirring blades above them. Elena piloted without error, deftly checking measurements and watching their course with a keen eye. The three didn't really speak to each other, fraught with worry for the fate of their companions and burdened with concern over their own providence. They had no clue what to expect in Icicle. The report had only been a brief but frantic call for help.

Reeve was the first to notice anything wrong, sucking in a breath of horror as his eyes took in the thick, grey smoke rising from the direction of the village, ash already staining the pristine snow. Flares of orange flame and red fire arced above smoldering rooftops, evidence that the battle still raged. And even from the distance and within the cockpit of the helicopter, they could hear the frightened screams.

"Elena, land us!" ordered Reeve, his heart thudding in his chest.

The Turk gritted her teeth, suddenly gripping onto the throttle in front of her. "The wind here is incredible. I don't know if I can get closer." As if to accentuate her words, the copter jerked to the side, nearly throwing them all to the floor. It shuddered and groaned; yet, somehow, Elena managed to keep it on course.

"We have to get down there," Yuffie insisted, itching to fight and destroy the shapes she could see flitting around the area. Her fingers curled around her weapon, eyes locked on the battle.

Reeve frowned. "There's no time. Seiryu?"

The air sparkled and pulsed before the demi-deity swirled into existence, appearing behind the executive with a twinkle. "I am here, Reeve."

"Who is attacking?" questioned Elena, glancing once over her shoulder. "Can you tell?"

(My daughter…) Raijin spoke within her mind, the sorrow in his voice plainly evident to the Turk. (I never thought I'd see the day when I would be forced to fight my only child. Truly, madness has descended on Gaia.) The slight crackle of electricity trickled across her mind, proving that her anima was restless and troubled.

The blonde cocked her head to the side. 'Your daughter?' she repeated.

But it was Seiryu who unknowingly responded to her question. "Mabuz, for certain, I recognize that aura. The twins, Typhoon and Pandemona, as well as King Arthur. There is one other, but I cannot recognize which knight; their magics are nearly indistinguishable one from the other, save for their king," the wisest of the demi-gods explained. He frowned slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "And a horde of monsters to complicate things."

A vicious gust of wind rose up, battering angrily at the side of the helicopter and causing it to jerk to the right, Elena fighting to regain control. She cursed and shook her head, banking away and pulling back from her approach of the town.

"It's no use," she stated, voice crackling through the headset she wore. "I'll have to land her here."

"We're too far away," Reeve protested.

The blonde shook her head. "There's nothing I can do about that!" she snapped. "I can't risk crashing and killing us all."

The executive narrowed his eyes in thought for a second before running to the sliding door, throwing it open immediately and wincing at the great rush of air that assailed him when he did so. He stared down at the rapidly passing scenery, resisting the urge to gulp at their sheer height. Amber eyes flickered to Seiryu, ignoring Elena's 'What the hell are you doing?' shriek.

"Are you going to fight with me?" the executive questioned, gesturing towards the battle.

The demi-deity nodded, stepping up beside Reeve. "I'm going to fight as part of you," he amended.

Something passed between the animum pair, and before anyone could say anything further, they leapt outside, falling directly down towards the grey smoke. Yuffie immediately ran to the door, biting back the rise of nausea that threatened to explode as she watched their descent with wide eyes.

At first she saw their bodies, clear as day, then suddenly there was a great flash of light, nearly blinding as it sparkled and effloresced. She was forced to shield her eyes as another great gust of wind tore at the helicopter. When Yuffie opened them again, she gasped in shock, completely surprised at what her eyes revealed to her.

Where once there was two now flew one, a completely new being unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was as if Reeve and Seiryu had merged, and now, the President sported a pair of silver wings, glittering in the low autumn sun. Even from the distance, she could see the shine of his eyes, one amber and one emerald. Long silver strands of hair interspersed with his shorter and darker strands. He was strong and powerful… and ultimately beautiful. She wondered if she would merge with Barinthus as well.

Below her, Reeve was nearly giddy with the force of his strength, the power exerted by his wings as he flew through the air. He could feel Seiryu's presence at the back of his mind, and he literally surged with magical energy. He never would have thought that the true meaning of bonding with one's anima was an actual physical joining. It made sense, but he probably wouldn't have believed it before.

Seiryu spoke to him then, the demi-deity sounding particularly amused. (You are surprised,) he commented. (Do not be. Now… keep sharp; enemies lie ahead!)

The executive nodded but was unprepared for what came next. A body barreled into him from the side, throwing him off balance, and he careened wildly, struggling to control his new wings and salvage his flight. They plummeted downwards, and Reeve vaguely registered that it was human-like hands about his body before he quickly summoned up an Ice, throwing it blindly at his attacker.

There was a crash and a tinkle as Ice raced along its body, and with a startled yelp, his assailant let go. Reeve flapped furiously, regaining his own momentum and whirled around, laying eyes on what had attacked him. A somewhat human male, wearing a bright blue cape and carrying a gleaming sword. There was a strange but sorrowful gleam raging in his eyes.

(Galahad,) Seiryu growled in his mind. (One of the knights. I never thought that they would turn on us. They were always about justice and honor.)

Galahad howled as he shook at his arm, struggling to throw off the spell. Reeve pressed forward, determined to take out this enemy before moving on to the others Reeve could see just below them. The air was thick with the smell of blood and ash, and the executive could hear with startling accuracy, the screams and cries of the dying. It filled his heart with rage.

He flicked his wrist, calling a dagger to his hand even he summoned Flare to his other, surprised at how little of his own energy it drew. He vaguely wondered why he had kept control of his body and not the smarter Seiryu. Or perhaps it was Seiryu quietly whispering to him the best magic to use in the battle. Reeve couldn't really say, and it wasn't the time to ponder on it.

Galahad growled low in his throat, a rather inhumane sound as he launched himself at Reeve in mid-air, despite having no wings or either means to fly. The two came together with a resounding clang, sword meeting dagger as Reeve thrust his hand forward, pushing the Flare into the demi-deity's belly. The knight howled and twisted, scraping his blade along Reeve's dagger and managing to skim it across the back of the executive's hand.

Blood dropped to the ground below as the smell of burnt flesh permeated the winds around them. Galahad's free hand darted forward, grappling with Reeve's casting arm and trying to force it away from as the magic melted his flesh. The president's wings beat furiously, struggling to keep both bodies afloat.

(Reeve! Behind you!)

Slam!

Before Reeve could even register what was going on, another body crashed into him from behind, rendering his wings nearly useless and cracking some of the bones in the delicate appendages. He snarled in pain as stars danced in front of his eyes, and the three plummeted downwards. The executive gasped as he struggled to draw a breath from the bone-crushing arms that were wrapped around him, attempting to summon up enough thought to cast again.

He curled back his dagger and struck out at Galahad, managing to slice the deity across the face, and crimson blood splashed down on him. Reeve thrashed in his assailant's grip, lashing out with a leg to get himself free as his stomach leapt into his chest due to what was basically a free fall to the ground below.

Reeve grappled with them, eyes widening in surprise when one of his arms displayed an unnatural strength. Claws emerged from fingernails, slicing down the front of Galahad's chest. Ghostly blue eyes bugged out in shock as the deity gasped, spluttering out blood. A hand wrapped around Reeve's throat, threatening to choke him from behind.

And still they fell.

He gasped and fought, knowing nothing else to do but cast. Bolts of electricity rippled through the knight at the same moment that he threw an Aero at the body behind him, nearly managing to free himself. It was creepy, these humanoid deities, who were unable to do anything but grunt and groan like animals as they absorbed everything he threw at them. Reeve shook his head to clear his thoughts before casting another quick Ice at the creature behind him.

It was amazing, no matter how many high end spells he threw, he felt no more fatigued than before. It must have been because of his melding with Seiryu.

There was a snap and a snarl, and suddenly, for a moment, he was free. He spread his wings, wincing when one protested the movement before obeying. The wind slapped into the webbing and immediately slowed his descent, managing to cushion his subsequent crash into the still snow-covered dirt. He struck hard, breath stolen from his body, and agony shot through him at the same moment he heard a definite snap. One of the delicate bones of his wing… it had to be.

(Don't worry. I'll heal it,) Seiryu soothed in his mind as Reeve's head whirled.

He grunted as he tried to sit up, blinking away the bleariness in his eyes as he struggled to his feet. He caught sight of Galahad, thrown away from him in the crash, but as for his other assailant, he saw nothing. They had landed in the center of Icicle, the town burning around them. The screams of the dead and dying were even louder now that he was on the ground, and he choked on the thick ash filling the air as warmth began to spread through his back, the teasing tingle of a healing spell in the works. Yet, another perk of being bonded.

In front of him, Galahad struggled to his own feet, shaking his head as he lifted his fallen sword from the ground. Reeve wasted no time in attacking, knowing that his opponent wouldn't either. He ignored the sounds of further battle around him; there was little he could do until Galahad and the other were both defeated. The sounds of crashing lightning and vicious winds faded as he concentrated solely on this one battle, determined to live and fight another day.

He darted towards the knight, a spell on his lips and a dagger at the ready when another body skidded in front of him, green eyes blazing and black hair flitting in the wind.

(Arthur,) Seiryu informed, his voice solemn and grave. (The Lord King of the Knights of the Round. He is smarter and more powerful than all the others. Be wary.)

Reeve barely acknowledged the warning before he shifted his attention, preparing another spell to attack both deities at once. He didn't know how he could call spells that he didn't have the materia for, nor did he question how he knew the weaknesses of his two enemies. Another burst of Ice flew from his fingertips, striking Arthur directly as Reeve quickly parried the spear thrust from Galahad with his dagger, the screech of metal along metal grating to his ears.

He pushed forward, summoning up the energy to cast again and again since physical attacks weren't his forte and magic was. He dimly registered Yuffie and Elena appearing on the battlefield, their anima at their sides. It was more a feeling, a pulse in his senses, than anything else, and he paid them no mind, concentrating intently on the battle before him. Demi deities were nothing like monsters, their eyes…

Reeve gasped as he dodged a jab from a sword that Arthur had aimed at him, quickly backpedaling with the sudden realization. The knights, their eyes were dead and lifeless. They didn't shine with wisdom of the ages or their own special element and power. They were empty, hollow, and somehow, Reeve knew that something was very wrong with them.

But he had no time to contemplate as both rushed him again, sharpened metal of their weapons gleaming in the dim sunlight, already caked with soot and blood. He tossed out a Flare and a Bolt in succession, but they shook off the attacks as if they were mere insect bites. Reeve ducked and dodged, rolled and nimbly avoided, reacting on pure instinct… something he had not realized he had before.

"Reeve!" Elena shouted, her keen Turk eyes catching sight of the President, somehow managing to hold his own against the onslaught of the two male demi-deities. She skidded to a halt, Yuffie panting beside her as they took in the carnage and destruction of Icicle. Just like all the other cities and towns, they would have to rebuild, if they even managed to survive.

The blonde darted forward, intent on helping her companion when a hand grabbed her arm, stalling her movement. She whirled around.

"What? We have to…" Her words died on her lips as Yuffie set her mouth in a grim line, eyes locked on the three that had landed behind them. She recognized them easily enough: Typhoon, Pandemona, and one other. This female with golden yellow hair and brown eyes, not unlike her own, Elena did not know.

"Fujin!" Raijin cried from the Turk's side. "Why have you betrayed me? Us? Your blood?" he demanded, body literally trembling with anger and sadness. His hand clenched tightly on his staff, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

The demi-goddess laughed, mocking and loud as she fingered the curved rapier sword in her hand. "Father," she hissed, her voice sounding anything but repentant. "You spent so much time stuffing my head with your own delusions that you failed to see that I had already stopped believing them. This is the future. Accept it. The humans are going to die."

Elena narrowed her eyes, disliking the tone the female had taken with her anima, kin or not. She stepped forward, a sharp retort on her tongue, but Raijin held out a hand.

"No," he intoned without looking at her. "I will handle her. She is my responsibility."

"Responsibility," Fujin repeated, her tone on the edge of a sneer. "That is all we have, isn't it? Chains and fate… no freedom!"

The Turk thought to argue. They were supposed to be a team, to fight together. She could feel his grief over his daughter reverberating through her, as if they shared the same emotions, and she knew she wanted to help him. Even if she was just a human, she could be of some aid. Raijin was a part of her; she couldn't just abandon him to the battle alone.

Elena could feel the immense rise of power in the air around her, literally crackling with it, and her eyes widened in surprise when Raijin began to glow, the wind whipping about his face and sending his wizened, white locks flitting about him in a flurry. He was grim, determined, as he stared down his errant daughter, completely ignoring all others on the battlefield.

"It seems I was too lax in my discipline, or perhaps my love was never expressed quite enough," the Lightning God boomed, narrowing his sights on his only child. "Nevertheless, your mistakes weigh heavily on my conscience, and I will put an end to this foolishness."

Fujin smirked, dropping quickly into her own battle stance as a reddish glow began to rise up around her, freely lashing her own power through the air. It was obvious she was less dominant than her father, but she stared back unflinchingly, fighting heartedly for a cause in which she had devoted her life and allegiance. They moved fast, almost quicker than Elena could register, attacking each other with the speed of light itself. But she had no time to watch the awe-inspiring spectacle since the other two chose to attack then.

Twin swirls of whipping wind ripped across the ground, heading directly for Elena and Yuffie. They screamed and screeched their anger as the twins, Typhoon and Pandemona, laughed; the madness and chaos of Balaam had infected them as well. The two humans scrambled out of the way, but they were saved when Barinthus thrust himself in front of them. His arms were to the side as a great column of water appeared out of nowhere, intercepting the wind.

The two mighty forces collided, pushing at one another, both elements refusing to give ground. Water flung from side to side, mini tornados whipped out of the main horde and crashed into already burning buildings. The sky crackled and raged as Barinthus stared down his opponents with determination.

On the edge of her sight, Elena caught the creeping approach of demons and lesser monsters, eager for a taste of fresh blood. Perhaps their hunt in the town had ended; perhaps there was no one left to defend. A sick feeling of dread settled in the Turk's belly, but she drew her most powerful hand guns, nevertheless, one for each hand. She started firing, not flinching as blood sprayed into the air, bones cracking under the pressure of each materia enhanced bullet.

Yuffie was a comfortable presence at her back, the ninja standing firm in the face of destruction, even though it had to be a painful reminder of both Cosmo Canyon and her birthplace. But they were all used to it. The battle, the blood, the death… every one of their group was a battle-hardened warrior. Sure, the first time was hard, the first time they took a life. After that, when it became clear it was "us or them", they learned to numb themselves to it. And now, they were methodical and precise dealers of death, even the youngest of them.

More of the lesser creatures crept from the shadows, displaying bloodstained fangs and claws, soot-blackened hides. Yuffie's Conformer flew through the air, whipping through their ranks followed by fierce casts of the Earth materia she now wore around her neck. For a moment, it almost felt as if Nanaki was fighting along side her. Elena emptied her rounds into the creatures, reloading on instinct, gritting her teeth against the melancholy that threatened to overwhelm her.

One thought prevailed in her mind. Why Icicle?

It was relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing more than a tourist town. It presented no threat, not like Cosmo Canyon or Junon or Wutai. It was a small village. Why?

There was a crackle of some fierce energy behind her, and she dared a look, finding that the blue knight had cast, sending balls of fiery stone raining down on Reeve. His wings flapped backwards, trying to pull him out of range as a shield suddenly sprang up around him, shattering the stones and driving him against the dirt with the force of their strike. Deep furrows gouged into the earth, and Reeve gritted his teeth.

He was panting, gasping for breath, unused to such long and drawn out fights of great magical magnitude. The meteors of Galahad's Meteor Storm beat against his shield, but he kept his eyes locked on Arthur, knowing that the Knight King was up to something. He was proving to be the far more difficult opponent of the two, craftier, and he had even managed to slip in under Reeve's guard. His left arm sleeve was ripped and torn, hanging by sheer threads and a long gash glistened wet and bloody in the dying light.

Seiryu hadn't the time to heal it yet.

The last of the fiery rocks faded, and Reeve sprang into action. He didn't wait for Arthur to make his move, preferring to meet his fate head on. His left hand burned bright green and deadly with the beginnings of an Ultima magic, while he held his dagger at the ready. Earlier, an Ultima had done nothing against Arthur, but on an unprepared Galahad, obviously the weaker of the two, perhaps he would have a chance.

Emerald green fire enveloped the blue-clad Galahad as the demi-deity screamed, stumbling backwards when Reeve followed it up with a fierce upper slash across Galahad's chest. Blood sprayed into the air, but Reeve ignored it, concentrating as he used his wing to turn and block Arthur's attack just in time. Dagger and spearhead met with a resounding clang that reverberated up the deity-human duo's arm.

Reeve snarled, eyes flashing with emerald fury, a carry-through from Seiryu inside of him as he quickly called up another cast, attempting something to break through Arthur's magical barriers. Intuition took over, and as he battled against the greater physical strength of the deity, Lightning and Tornado struck in quick succession so quickly that he had barely finished the motions for one before the second struck.

Arthur's eyes widened with pain as he stumbled backwards, but not before he thrust his spear out and down, slicing through Reeve's upper thigh, sending rivulets of blood pouring down the President's leg. Reeve gritted his teeth against the pain, pressing forward to take advantage of the small window of opportunity. He scarcely noticed Galahad dissolving into dust behind him, eyes locked on his opponent. Arthur smirked then, dead eyes empty and lacking in all emotion.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, accompanied by the sound of crashing thunder and rushing wind. A storm roared above them, Reeve dimly registering the others fighting all around him. He only concentrated on the battle of now. Darting forward, pushing past the pain of his own injuries and the weakness of his leg, Reeve cast a cloud of poison gas, obscuring Arthur's vision.

As the other demi-deity spluttered, waving a hand to try and clear away the mist, Reeve took the opportunity to attack, slicing valiantly at Arthur with a dagger brought to hand by a twist of his wrist. At the last possible moment, the other male dodged, and Reeve's dagger slashed across Arthur's forehead, dislodging some nearly invisible object and sending it flying through the air in a spray of blood.

A spear fell from nerveless fingers as Arthur stood stock still, staring with almost awe as Reeve pulled back from the attack, fully prepared to strike the killing blow. But that was only until Seiryu screamed in his head, ordering him to stop. The President drew to a halt, stopping mid-thrust and pulling back in confusion as Arthur continued to stare, comprehension returning to his once dead eyes. His wings folded against his back as Arthur blinked, drawing in a shuddering breath.

"I…" One blood-stained hand came up to his forehead as Arthur looked around him, clearly perplexed. "Where?"

Reeve furrowed his brow. "You don't know?" he questioned.

(He doesn't,) Seiryu affirmed. (The confusion is honest. Something has happened to him.)

The other deity shook his head. "I… Something has happened. We would have never turned our backs on our duties." Arthur slashed his hand through the air in a firm negative. "Never. We are faithful! They must have found some way to control us." He bit his lip, gaze sliding towards where Galahad had disintegrated. "My knights…" Arthur coughed, blood dribbling from his lips as he slumped.

(The control chips!) Seiryu hissed, filled with a righteous fury. (There is no other viable explanation. That is how they are doing it.)

Suddenly, stars exploded in Reeve's eyes as pain seared through his chest. Blinding agony raced through his body moments before he lost all consciousness, dimly registering that Seiryu was being forcefully ripped from his body. The great dragon deity stumbled as he was torn from Reeve, gazing down with surprise at the spear that had been thrust through the human's chest with enough force to take out Arthur at the other end.

Behind him, the President slumped, blood pouring from the gaping hole in his chest, only to be caught up by the arms of his assailant, barely alive. Mind spinning from the sudden separation from his animus, Seiryu coughed. Robes swishing across the blood-soaked ground, he turned to find Mabuz grinning murderously at him, Reeve's limp body in his hand and chin held between two clawed fingers.

"Father, I should have known to meet you here… on the field of battle," rasped Mabuz, scraping a claw down the side of his captive's face, drawing a thin line of oozing blood. Reeve didn't even stir.

Seiryu's eyes narrowed with fury as his hands clenched at his side, unconsciously noting the dispersal of Arthur behind him. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded harshly, wincing when his shoulder ached, a transferal of pain from Mabuz' attack on his animus.

"For freedom!" declared Mabuz, his voice barely louder than a hiss. "Or haven't you learned yet? These mortals get what they want, take what they want, and ruin what they have." He glared down at the President in his hold, eyes tainted with malice. "Selfish creatures. They are not worthy of life or freedom. And yet, they are favored. So we… it is time we got what we deserved."

With a sparkle, Seiryu called his weapon, a platinum staff adorned with a jade sphere. "You are my son, so it is up to me to show you the error of your ways," he replied, sadness settled deep into his face. It pained his heart to know that his words would be unable to pierce his child's delirium. Somehow, he had to rescue his animus and defeat Mabuz before even more destruction and death occurred.

---

Yuffie panted but pressed forward nevertheless, dodging a wind scythe attack from Pandemona in the same moment that she dove forward, throwing her shuriken towards Typhoon. He quickly deflected it with a well-timed tornado but fell under a cresting wave of swirling water when Barinthus barreled onto the scene. Pulling back, anima and animus stood together, back to each other as they faced their opponents.

"Any brilliant ideas?" Yuffie questioned, wincing when a particularly vicious steam of lightning struck the shield that Barinthus had hurriedly erected around them. "Can't we bond like Seiryu and Reeve did? Or something equally cool?"

Barinthus shook his head, his face solemn. "Only the eldest among us have that particular talent. It will be several hundred years more before I am capable."

Yuffie sighed, hefting up her shuriken as the shield around them fluctuated. "Looks like its time for a good old-fashioned ass-whooping then," she commented. Though she was tired, her face held nothing but excitement. It was the thrill of battle that she had been looking forward to, hating the fact that she had been left behind.

"It appears to be so," Barinthus responded. Moments later the two exchanged glances, each diving to opposite sides as a tornado ripped between them, narrowly missing when the shield shattered into oblivion.

Yuffie rolled on a shoulder, quickly bouncing into an upright position as she tossed her shuriken. The weapon glided through the air in a wide arc, slicing through Typhoon's red, bulbous shoulder. She wasted no time in gloating as she rolled away from an impeding attack, catching her shuriken in one fell swoop and quickly tossing out a Fire 3 to a minor demon monster that wandered too close. It crumpled into a burning, screeching pile of dust.

Behind her, Barinthus sent a spray of water bullets flying at Pandemona, which were promptly knocked aside by a stream of wind encircling the female demi-deity. He wasted no time in darting forward, quickly calling forth his battle staff and letting out a fierce and thunderous battle cry. Rod met sharpened claws as Pandemona snarled, a clamoring clang resounding around them.

He spun quickly on his heels, stomping one foot on the ground to force a water geyser up from directly beneath the demi-goddess. She screeched in fury, violet eyes blazing as she danced back from the great spout. He pressed forward, taking the advantage and giving her a sound rap across the head with his staff. She swooned but maintained her ground, slashing out with one hand and catching him across the belly before he could guard against her.

Barinthus stumbled as a fiery pain spread across his stomach, blood dripping down his front. He knew it would heal within time, but the agony was still present, making his head spin. He quickly regained his lost balance, blocking a slashing claw with his staff, strength of a deity against strength of a deity.

To his right, Yuffie grappled with Typhoon, nimbly dodging around him and inflicting small cuts and scrapes. Still, she not able to get close enough to injure him with something more deadly. The human quickly executed a backwards cart-wheel, narrowly missing the swipe of a wickedly-curved scythe as Typhoon advanced upon her, grinning like a demi-deity truly gone mad.

She quickly cast a Fire 3 at him, cursing very unladylike as he merely brushed the flame aside with the twirl of his fingers. Another demon appeared out of the cloaking black smoke, still thick and billowing from the burning homes. The girl dodged its breath of black acid with a tuck and roll, coming up on her heels and tossing a shuriken before rolling out of the way of a vicious swipe of Typhoon's scythe.

He laughed manically as she pushed herself to the balls of her feet, pulling a small dagger from a hidden sheath on her thigh and slicing at him mercilessly. A thin, garish gash spread across his left thigh, spurting blood almost immediately. The laughter quickly changed to a growl of anger as Typhoon's eyes flashed and he back-handed her, using all of his inhuman strength.

Yuffie cried out in pain as her head snapped back, and she went sprawling to the ground, blood pouring from her sliced lip. She curled up in agony as her brain literally bounced around in her head. She couldn't even breathe, air knocked from her body as moans escaped from her mouth.

Nearby, ocean blue eyes widened in surprised as Barinthus whipped around, locking it on his fallen anima, sensing her pain. "Yuffie!" he exclaimed, turning immediately to help her. Yet, that was his mistake. In the very same moment, Pandemona tackled them, sending both deities crashing to the sodden ground.

Arms immediately pressed down on his, pinning him to the ground. He growled angrily, twisting to break free when another weight piled on top of them. He recognized the bright red blob immediately. No doubt, it was Pandemona's twin brother, Typhoon. He smacked a fist against the ground, summoning up another water spout, but then, claws raked across his chest, ripping through his cheek and leaving brash strips of blood behind as the weight across his ribs increased, cutting off his air.

"Heh heh," Typhoon laughed, spittle flecking across Barinthus' face. "I heard about what happens when an animum bond is broken."

Pandemona rasped, "Care to test it?"

"No!" Barinthus growled, straining to break free, but the Wind Twins only laughed all the harder, holding him down with their weight as he kicked and flailed uselessly. He tried to summon enough concentration to change forms, but his lack of air made it difficult.

Seconds later, they raised their arms in tandem, pointing it directly at Yuffie who was struggling to rise to her feet. The ninja had only a moment to raise her head and catch sight before two swirling masses of wind struck her full on, but there was nothing to protect her from the force of the blow. She went flying backwards, crashing into the remains of a burning shed and sending it crumpled around her.

She didn't even have time to cry out.

"Arrrgh!" Barinthus snarled, releasing a flare of power so large that the area around them briefly shook. Pandemona and Typhoon went flying from his body, landing on their hands and knees several feet away, twin gazes narrowing in anger. He paid them no mind as ocean eyes flared with fury, sweeping the ground in search of his fallen staff.

At the back of his mind, worry swirled for his animus. He could hear the steady thrum of her heart beating in his senses, so he knew that she lived. Yet, until their foes were defeated, he couldn't spare the moment to check. A brief glance to his right ,and Barinthus' concerns were alleviated if only for a second. He concentrated on the twins, one hand held at his side as he called up one of his more powerful attacks, the obliterating Tidal Wave.

Elsewhere, Elena stared around her in horror as more beasts crept out of the ash and fog. She cocked her shotgun again, sighting up the crimson-tinged eyes of a porcine monster and shooting with perfect aim. She swung the gun around again, firing with faultless accuracy as always. She swept her eyes to the right, jaw falling as her heart leapt into her chest, her fingers loosening around the trigger as the shotgun sagged in her grip.

Reeve dangled limply in Mabuz' hold, Seiryu at a standstill nearby. Blood dripped steadily down the President's chest, and his head lolled limply around on his neck. If she hadn't spotted the faint rise and fall of his chest, she might have thought him dead already. The two deities seemed to be speaking, but over the roar of battle and flame, she could not make out the words.

A growl issued from behind her, and she turned and shot without another thought before sweeping her gaze around, trying to catch sight of some ally. As a result, her eyes caught the vicious slap across Yuffie's face… as well as the follow up attack that sent the ninja sprawling into the nearest shed. Without a thought, she took off running, throwing out an idle Bolt 3 at the nearest monster that dared think her an easy meal. She scarcely noticed as Barinthus roared angrily, taking on the Wind Twins by himself.

Then, pain raced across her back, fiery and hot. She arched with agony, teeth gritted and clenched against the flaming hurt as she turned to catch sight of the perpetrator. It was already rearing back for another strike, and Elena narrowed her intent eyes as she quickly reversed the shotgun in her grip, slamming the butt-end directly under the creature's chin. Its head snapped backwards before she gave it another sound strike, sending it crashing to the ground and snapping its skull on a rock.

Elena ignored the blood dripping down her back and into her pants as she sprinted the remaining distance to the shed. She vaulted over the outside shell, all that remained of the shack, landing neatly on the debris. Without a second thought, she began to dig just as a low groan of pain caught her attention. A board shifted and then went flying upwards, revealing a flattened, scratched, and bleeding but still very much alive Yuffie.

"Are you ok-- Urgh!" Damn those monsters and their lack of honor. She stared down with slight horror at the spear that protruded an inch through her shoulder. It hurt like a bitch, making stars appear in her eyes. The monster gave another great yank, tearing it out and sending sharp stabs of pain through her as blood trickled in a warm path across her skin.

Fighting against the pain, Elena turned and cast a Bolt 3, unable to help a smirk of satisfaction as it hissed and sizzled in front of her eyes, caterwauling like a frightened cat in agony. Without sparing it another glance, she turned back towards Yuffie, breathing labored. The ninja groaned as eyelids fluttered weakly.

"E… Elena," Yuffie muttered weakly, lifting a blood-streaked hand to her forehead.

The blond breathed a sigh of relief. "You're alive," she said unnecessarily, surreptitiously glancing around them for anymore monsters. She could not see much in the surrounding gloom and smoke, but for the moment, there didn't appear to be any.

The ninja chuckled feebly. "Unfortunately," she muttered in response, struggling to rise from the debris around her. Unexpectedly, brown eyes widened. "The battle!" she exclaimed, fighting to rise to a sitting position. However, pain wracked her body from unknown broken bones and other bruises, and she promptly fell backwards again, coughing and groaning.

"I know," responded Elena gloomily, wincing as she gingerly prodded at her own wound. "It was a mistake to come here. We're getting our asses kicked."

Abrupt footsteps across the gravel behind them alerted both to the fact they were not alone. Quickly grabbing her gun with her uninjured arm, Elena spun around on her heels, raising the barrel with the intention of taking out whatever approached the moment it became visible. A figure emerged from the smoke and haze, and if she had been any wearier, she might not have recognized the form before pulling the trigger.

It was Barinthus.

He was beaten, bloody, looking incredibly weary. He walked with an obvious limp, but like them, he was at least alive. Elena had completely lost sight of Reeve and could only hope that Seiryu was protecting him. She did not want to have to tell Reno that she had failed in protecting the person that meant the most to him. A wave of dizziness struck her, and for a moment, she slumped before gritting her teeth and forcing herself to regain control.

"Barinthus!" Yuffie rasped, weakly trying to rise once more, gently being aided by Elena, who offered a shoulder to the injured ninja. "Are you okay?"

The anima frowned, eyebrows pinched together as he raised his gaze to the area around them. He tried to peer through the hazy smoke as screams still echoed in the distance.

"I think you should be more concerned about yourself. It takes much to destroy my kind."

As if in direct response to his statement, the sky above them suddenly flashed with a fresh burst of power, a mix of electric blue and crimson red, all swirling and intertwining. Beneath them, the ground quaked with enough force to make Yuffie and Elena to fight to keep their feet. The definite treble of power rose static in the air and caused the hair on the back of their neck's to rise. A fierce wind began to whip through the air, gradually clearing away the smoke and haze. It revealed hollowed shells of homes and two battling demi-deities in the sky, Raijin and Fujin locked in combat.

Lightning crashed to the ground around them, and Barinthus quickly sprung into action, darting to their side and erecting a quick barrier. Seconds later, a particularly large bolt struck it, energy crackling all around and making their hair stand on end. Another blast hit a semi-standing building to their right, sending into an explosive burst of flame.

"Oh no," Barinthus commented, blue eyes darkening. "That… it's impossible. He knows better. He--" His words suddenly halted as he took an obvious step backwards in surprise, gaze locked on the heavens above where the humans were already staring, blood dripping down in a macabre rain. "We… we have to leave."

Elena shook her head, breath coming in sharp pants. "Not without Reeve," she denied, wincing when another burst of power and lightning struck the shield. A loud boom echoed around them.

"He is here," came a low voice, announcing itself out of the shadows and darkness. The three forms turned towards the voice, peering out of their shield to find Seiryu staggering towards them, bleeding from several places but carrying an unconscious Reeve on his back.

Laughter resounded through the air from behind Seiryu, and Elena's attention was drawn to the sight of Mabuz flapping his bat-like wings as he rose into the sky, demonic face filled with glee as he headed towards the still occurring battle between Raijin and Fujin.

"But Raijin--" Elena protested weakly, her heart sinking at the sight of the President. He looked dead, his face incredibly pale and sickly, while his body flopped around weakly, blood sluggishly dripping from the wound in his chest. She swallowed thickly, clutching more firmly onto her own injury as Yuffie sucked in a breath of worry.

Barinthus' eyes rose to the battle in the sky, solemn and sorrowful. "He has made his choice," the sea-deity intoned softly, though they could not mistake the tremble in his voice. "If a deity is killed by another, the massive release of power will destroy everything around here. We must leave."

Yuffie gasped. "Killed?" she questioned. "Raijin is going to be killed?"

Brown eyes widened as fear struck Elena's heart. "He can't!" she exclaimed. "We are supposed to fight together!" Though she had only known of Raijin's existence for a short time, she could not deny that she felt as if he were a part of her. Like he had always been there, but she had been too blind to see it. The thought of losing him was like losing a piece of herself.

"We don't have time for this!" Seiryu exclaimed, losing his evident composure for the first time. His hands tightened their hold on his animus, concern etched into his features. He could feel and hear the weakening of Reeve's breath and heart. He needed to get his bonded away from here.

"This battle is lost to us! We've no choice but to leave!"

"Back to Midgar," Yuffie commented softly. "We never should have left at all." She shook her head, tears threatening to fall from her suddenly moist eyes. "How did Sephiroth know?"

Barinthus shook his head, a thick sheen of sweat building up on his brow from the effort of holding up the barrier as more power boomed through the area. "No, we cannot return to Midgar…"

"What!" Elena exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"

Lightning crashed, the two remaining buildings near to them going up in flames, and a deadly torrent of tornados sliced through the area. The sky had completely darkened, becoming little more than a black, roiling haze.

"No time! We must go! And now!" Barinthus ordered. He wasted no time as Seiryu nodded ,and the human females were left exchanging confused glances. The shield fell as he lost his concentration, but the moment wasn't wasted as he grabbed onto Yuffie, ignoring her injures for the more important tactic of simply getting away.

Seiryu quickly darted forward, maintaining one hold on Reeve as he grabbed onto Elena with the other. Barinthus stepped forward, and before another shock of lightning could strike, the entire group disappeared with a shout.

"_Migro_!"

In the sky, Raijin avoided a particularly lethal blow that was intended for his head and darted forward, shoving the end of his rod towards Fujin. His eyes filled with sorrow as they met the rage-filled orbs of his daughter.

"Forgive me," he whispered softly as a surge of power rose from him, pouring into his weapon as it dealt the final blow. "I have failed you."

An emotion flickered in Fujin's eyes, though he wasn't sure what to make of it, whether relief or guilt or determination. It hurt him to have to be the one to take down his own flesh and blood. Yet, if someone had to do it, he preferred it be himself. Out of love. With one final glance, he threw up a shield as streaks of light began to emanate beneath Fujin's skin, releasing all of her stored magic and power.

She shattered then, a spray of explosion that filled the sky with orange and yellow ripples. Below them, monsters screeched and hollered as their bodies were disintegrated by the surge of power, becoming little more than ashy, black stains on the once snowy ground. Houses turned into piles of debris, crumpling to the ground, and the clouds boomed. When the last rumbles of the ground faded, the sky loosing the incredible glow, all that remained was partially erect rubble.

Panting with the strain, breath heaving in his chest, Raijin slowly lowered himself to the ground. His hand clutched over a wound in his belly that he had no more strength to heal since it had taken all of his power to form the shield. His legs buckled beneath him, and he crumpled down to one knee, the world spinning around his head.

'Elena,' he murmured in his head, trying to contact her softly, hoping that she and the others had enough sense to escape before he had destroyed Fujin.

Suddenly, blinding pain struck through his entire body as something sharp pierced him from behind. He looked down to see a huge claw weapon protruding from his chest. He could feel the warmth seeping out of him immediately. His eyes widened as he gingerly pressed a finger to the bloodstained claw at the same moment that the defining feeling of every ounce of his power being drained from him wracked his form.

They were killing him. Just like he had taken the life of his own daughter.

"I loved her!" hissed a voice in his ear, a warm and heavy weight suddenly pressing against him from behind. "You bastard!"

Raijin coughed, blood dribbling from his lips. "You… are wrong. Balaam… is wrong." His head spun then as he slumped, feeling he was on the verge. Already cracks were appearing in his body, power seeping from him as the ground trembled violently. "This is… not the way."

Behind him, Typhoon's eyes narrowed angrily. "I never cared about freedom. I only cared about her," he hissed, jerking the claw in Raijin's body and sending another fresh stab of pain through the demi-deity, and more power escaped as the ground boomed. "But that doesn't matter anymore."

With that, Raijin's world went dark as it shattered around him, leaving nothing behind but a blackened pit in the ground.

---

A sharp pop deposited the survivors of the Icicle attack outside of Fort Condor, Yuffie coughing and sputtering with the unexpected sudden transportation, her anima doing the same. Seiryu staggered under the weight of Reeve, his energy severely depleted from the cast. But it was Elena who seemed to react the strongest.

She breathed in sharply as she dropped to her knees, one hand clutching onto her chest. "Raijin," she croaked, tears filling her eyes as an unbelievable wave of sadness overwhelmed her. It felt like a part of her had been rended from her body without her permission.

Her breath caught in her throat as a wave of dizziness struck her seconds before it all went black.

---


	63. Goodnight, not Goodbye

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! Especially those who have me on their favorites or alert lists! We're approaching the home stretch now. About nine more chapters to go.

**Chapter 63: Goodnight, not Goodbye**

Cloud sat in the empty conference, perfectly content with the silence for the moment. The sick feeling of dread wouldn't leave his belly, no matter how much he tried to assure himself of the safety of the others. His mind shifted from one worry to the other. Reeve and his team in Icicle. Sephiroth's crew and the Lost Grounds. His own measly collection of fighters trying to evacuate a dying city.

Currently, Sion was leading the exodus, though honestly, there wasn't much left of Midgar to save. Rude was monitoring the transmissions just down the hall from the women, who were taking care of the children upstairs, excluding Shera. She was still feeling unwell and was resting in another one of the rooms. Barret was keeping watch on the roof, too restless to do any sitting around.

And Cloud was merely brooding. His dream kept replaying in his mind, the swirling darkness, the blind tentacles, and the mocking laughter. Like some cruel prelude to what he should have expected but didn't. Balaam had a plan that they weren't aware of, and he feared that they were being led about like lambs to the slaughter, fighting a battle but completely unprepared for the massacre to come.

Any moment now, he half expected to hear terrible news. The Highwind had gone down in a sea of flames. Icicle lost to the invading demons or whatever the hell was out there. The survivors of Cosmo Canyon attacked once more.

(An army led by Balaam heading towards Midgar), added in Iblion helpfully.

Cloud scowled, putting his head in his hands and leaning on the table as he tried to quell the rising headache. "That's not funny," he muttered under his breath.

The demi-deity was silent for a moment, a quiet that immediately unnerved the blond.

"Iblion?"

(It's no joke, Spike. I couldn't sense him until now, but I expect any moment Barret's going to come storming down here talking about black shapes on the horizon. I don't know what his plan is, but a good portion of his army is heading here.) Iblion sighed in his mind. (He has at least eleven other deities with him, though thankfully, none of the lesser monsters.)

Cloud jerked to his feet, his heart pounding wildly in the chest. "**What**?" he demanded, fingers curling against the table as he struggled to regain his control. "How long?"

The anima made a thoughtful sound. "It may already be too late."

"Fuck!"

The blond swordsman cursed as he leapt over the table, heading straight for the door before his feet even touched the ground. He had to get them out of Midgar. There was no way he could take them on by himself. Barret and Rude were the only others capable of fighting since Aeris was too weary to support Hephaestion. The three of them were not enough to take on twelve demi-deities. It simply wasn't possible.

He skidded into the hallway, boots nearly losing friction at the speed he was going, and he barreled down the entry, bursting through the door to the stairs and taking them three at a time as he climbed to the next level. Seconds later he was shoving through the door to the transmissions room, Rude looking up at his entrance.

"We have to get everyone out of here! And fast!" Cloud ordered, quickly scanning the room for any others. There were none.

Rude shot to his feet. "What?"

The blond shook his head. "Sephiroth was right. Balaam is on his way here! We have no time to waste."

The former Turk sucked in a sharp breath. "God," he muttered, immediately moving towards Cloud and away from the computer, completely abandoning his work. "Icicle must have been a ruse."

Cloud stopped cold then, Rude's words ringing inside of him with the chime of truth. He had sent them to the slaughter, Reeve and the others; he was sure of it. It didn't matter that they had volunteered. He could have stopped them. He should have stopped them. And now, he shuddered to think what would happen to them. Their forces were stretched thin, too thin for any of them to survive entirely unscathed. He breathed a brief prayer to Kami-sama, a god he didn't believe in, that they would return safely. Still, he doubted there would be a Midgar left for them to return to.

"And what about Sion?" Rude questioned, his voice cutting through Cloud's thoughts.

The look on the blond's face was grim. "We can only hope that he has gotten out alive. He knew that the rendezvous for us was in Fort Condor if things got out of hand."

Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps snapped his attention to the doorway where Barret was running down the corridor, boots slapping loudly on the tiled floor. He nearly skidded into the door, chest heaving as he caught sight of Cloud and Rude. His eyes were wide with both fear and concern, one hand already worrying at the clasp for his gun.

"Somethin' headin' this way, Cloud," he gasped out. "And it's fuckin' huge. Gotta be that Balaam motherfucker 'cause it's a lot more than we can fight." As if on cue, the building shuddered then, windows rattling, and the three were nearly sent to the floor. The low sound of an explosion sounded from outside.

Cloud's heart dropped further into his belly. He scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration before quickly jumping into leader mode, recognizing the need for escape.

"Rude, get Shera and head for the helicopter pad. Barret, you and I will get the others."

The bald man was out the door before Cloud even finished speaking, already hurrying down the hall; Shera was resting well out of earshot of the playing children so that she wouldn't be wakened with Reis keeping watch over her just in case she needed something.

In the meantime, Cloud and Barret exchanged glances before they left the computer room in the opposite direction, nearly crashing against the wall when another violent shudder rocked the building. Balaam, it seemed, was aiming for destruction this time. No more games.

At the end of the hall, Barret and Cloud burst into the room where most of the others were located, startling the women and children. Aeris immediately looked up at their entrance.

"Hephaestion says it's Balaam," she said, her face pale as she urged Marlene awake. The girl had been curled up on the couch beneath a blanket, seemingly dead to the world.

Barret's eyes scanned the room. "Where's Elmyra?" he quickly asked, noticing that she was missing. Denzel was as well; something he noted after another sweep.

"She took Denzel to the bathroom," Aeris answered, letting out a soft cry as the building shuddered again, her pregnant body making it difficult to keep her balance.

Cloud rushed to her side as Barret disappeared. The blond picked up Marlene, who seemed somewhat out of it.

"We can't fight this," he informed his wife, locking eyes with her. "We have no choice but to run."

She sighed as she rubbed her belly. "I know. The helicopters are our only chance. Thank goodness Rude can pilot one." She pursed her lips then, eyes darkening with concern as she took her husband's hand and the two swiftly left from the small room. "I hope that the others are all right."

"Me, too."

Out in the hall, they joined up with Elmyra and Barret, who were hurrying Denzel along despite his protests. He was muttering something, but they weren't paying him much attention, more concerned with getting the boy out safely. They could dimly hear the sound of explosions outside the building, and Aeris began to pray silently, concern for all of their lives high on her priority list.

Cloud handed Marlene to her father, trusting the more burly man to carry the little girl far better than he could. With age came greater weight, and Marlene wasn't getting any lighter. She made soft sound of protest but just cuddled closer to Barret, seemingly oblivious to what was going around her. If it wasn't for the urgency of the situation, he might have found time to think it cute.

"Don't trust the elevator. Take the stairs," he warned them as they headed for the emergency stairs, prepared to climb the five levels to the helicopter pad. He only hoped that Aeris would be able to handle the exertion. She was already pale and exhausted.

They ascended quickly, despite the shuddering and shaking around them and burst out onto the rooftop. Cloud was the first to exit, sword immediately drawn as he scanned for enemies. Above him, dark shapes flew about, and many released streams of magic into the buildings around him. Fire and explosions erupted, sending clouds of ash and debris into the air. However, the roof itself was relatively clear.

The others piled out behind him, and Cloud immediately grabbed Aeris' hand as they quickly rounded the exit. They dashed to the other side where the helicopter pads were located…

Only to stop and stare in horror. Every single one had been destroyed. The helicopters were nothing more than burnt piles of twisted metal and seared plastic.

"No," Aeris gasped, blood draining from her face.

"Wha' the fuck!" demanded Barret. "They didn't look like that when I left!"

The sound of the roof door opening and closing announced the arrival of Rude, Shera, and Reis behind them. Cloud heard the engineer's swift intake of breath, and his hand clenched into a fist at his side, eyes narrowing in anger.

"They knew we would go up to the copters."

"How are we going to get out of here?" Elmyra questioned, her voice coming out shaky. She was wringing her hands together, eyes locked on the shapes flitting around above as Marlene clung to her side.

Cackling echoed then, deep and filled with contempt. All eyes turned upwards to see two winged foes circling above, moving to land just opposite where they stood. Cloud's eyes narrowed when he recognized them, one had to be Balaam; he would know that face anywhere. The other was Ifrit; he was certain of it.

The swordsman worked his way to the front of the group, putting himself between them and the others as he gripped his blade.

"Like rats on a sinking ship," Balaam guffawed, wings spreading out behind him as he grinned maliciously. Yet, he didn't appear completely whole. His right leg and one part of his wing seemed to be nothing but smoke, a hazy representation of what should have been there but wasn't.

They still had time, provided they survive this event.

"It was amusing that you fell so easily for my trap," the demi-deity continued, casually inspecting his claws. "I suspect that by this time tomorrow night, Gaia will belong to me."

Cloud snarled. "Not if I stop you first."

"You can try, mortal." Crimson eyes flashed seconds before two large balls of flame came shooting towards Cloud and the others, courtesy of Ifrit.

The blond managed to block one, sending it careening back over the edge of the building to drop into obscurity somewhere below, but the other slipped past him, heading directly for the group. He turned in shock but breathed a sigh of relief when the flame hit nothing but a shield, hastily cast by the sudden appearance of Ishvara. The attack fizzled and hissed, but it did little damage.

As Balaam cackled, Cloud clenched his teeth in fury, barely able to resist the urge to charge across the roof and take on both enemies on his own. He recognized their strength, however, knowing it would be suicide.

Within him, Iblion suddenly stirred. (Spike, Hephaestion may be able to teleport the others out of here. But I do not know for certain. I do not think so many have ever been done before,) the demi-deity informed him, his voice quite grim.

"Then, he will have to take them in little groups. I am not letting my wife and child die up here," he growled in response, keeping one eye on their enemies, who were watching them with faint amusement as he turned back towards the others. "Tell Hephaestion to get us out of here."

Aeris' jade eyes caught his, swimming with fear and uncertainty, and she swallowed thickly. "Denzel's missing, Cloud. We can't find him. I don't know how, but he slipped away from us when we were running."

Inwardly, Cloud cursed quite, fluently enough that Barret would be proud. His heart thudded painfully in his chest at the thought of the little boy lying hurt and alone somewhere. He had promised Sephiroth he would look after Denzel.

"I'll find him," he assured her.

The roof shook then, several more forms landing on it at the edge of his vision. The enemies were beginning to surround them, expecting nothing but a bloodbath.

"Just get the others out of here. I'll catch up."

"Do not worry," Ishvara said as Hephaestion sparkled into existence beside her, his face grim with the task set before him. "I will make sure that they are unharmed. Just find the boy." Her voice was musical and faintly comforting, managing to ease the turmoil inside Cloud as he realized his daunting task.

He nodded in understanding, nevertheless, and was gone before they realized it, slipping around the group and ducking back through the door before the second round of fire balls that Ifrit threw at them could strike. The deities were only playing with them, trying to frighten and torture the humans with the possibility of escape before slaughtering them all.

"Will he be able to find Denzel?" Marlene asked in a tiny voice, clenching tightly onto her father's hands. Her eyes were already red-rimmed, tears of fear for her friend staining her cheeks. She trembled as well, unable to find her courage in the face of certain death.

Barret laid his hand on his daughter's head. "He will. I know it. Cloud'd die before he'd let any harm come to us."

Within Ishvara's shield, the Ice Lady turned towards Hephaestion, sweat already beginning to dot her blue-tinged brow. While Balaam did not continuously attack, it was quite taxing to keep the barrier up. She needed Hephaestion to get them out of there and quickly before her strength failed her. Demi-deity did not equal limitless vigor.

"How many can you take at a time?" she questioned, panting slightly from the exertion.

The Holy deity chewed his lip, his gaze traveling over the crowd. "I can take three adults and the one child for certain. Anyone more than that… and it is a risk," he replied honestly, wincing when a barrage of magical attacks struck the shield above them, Balaam's cackle easily filtering through the sphere of protection.

"Hide behind your shield, 'faithful'," Balaam sneered, contempt evident in his tone. "And when it fails, you can watch in horror as I destroy the special mortals that you fight so diligently for!"

Aeris' hand clenched at her side as she turned towards her anima. "Take Shera, Reis, Marlene, and Elmyra first. I am not leaving until Cloud returns," she asserted, leaving no room for argument. She rubbed her stomach anxiously, trying to quell the sudden movement within her womb. It was as if their daughter sensed the danger they were in and was becoming scared as well.

Hephaestion nodded and gestured that those she named get close. "Grab hands," he explained. "You must be touching. I warn you that the magic might make you feel queasy, but it is normal. Trust me."

Swallowing thickly in nervousness, the three women and one child linked hands. Hephaestion laid his palm on Marlene's shoulder, offering her an assuring smile before he cast the spell.

"_Migro_!"

With a wink and a twinkle, the five were suddenly gone, disappearing into seemingly thin air. The resulting release of power nearly knocked those remaining behind from their feet.

Aeris turned her gaze to Barret and Rude. "When he returns, you two need to take the next group. Hephaestion is going to need to make at least three trips. You can't teleport, right?" she questioned, directing the query towards Ishvara.

The demi-goddess shook her head. "In another five-hundred years perhaps, but for now, I cannot. I can only materialize where Rude is present. Distance severely weakens my strength." She paused, taking a deep breath as her arms nearly buckled from the strain of keeping up the shield. "Even if I were to remain behind, and Rude leave, I would not be able to cast."

"I ain't leaving no pregnant woman here alone and especially not you," Barret growled, narrowing his dark brown eyes. "Cloud would rip my head off."

Rude shook his head, stepping between them as he tightened the gloves on his hands with a squeak of leather. "Ishvara is needed to protect her. You watch over my wife for me. I will protect Aeris until Cloud returns."

The former leader of AVALANCHE eyed the man that had once been enemy but was now friend. Even now, they were drinking buddies. Finally, he stuck out his hand, entrusting Aeris' safety to him.

"She will be as if my own," Rude intoned.

Aeris sighed as they completed their male-bonding ritual, stepping forward to lay a hand on Ishvara's shoulder. "Is there any way I can lend you my strength?" she questioned, jade gaze taking in the forms landing on the roof top all around them.

She counted eight, including Ifrit and Balaam. Of the smaller beasts flitting in the sky, not a one had landed yet. Perhaps Balaam had only allowed them to slay those in the city below. The thought sickened her, and Midori seemed to agree, kicking fiercely inside of her.

The demi-goddess shook her head, teeth clenching. "Pray for the speed of your intended. It is the only thing that will save us in the end."

But she hadn't even needed to ask.

Aeris was already doing so.

'_Cloud_,' she thought inwardly. '_Please hurry_.'

* * *

Cloud raced down the steps, taking them at least three at a time as he tried not to worry about those he had left above. He trusted that Rude and Barret could protect them, not that Aeris wasn't strong in her own right. Stil, she was also pregnant and tired. Right now, he tried to concentrate on finding Denzel, which was going to be difficult. The boy could have been anywhere within the building, though he planned to start in the rooms where they had rested first.

He crashed through the door, nearly careening into the opposite wall as he skidded into the hallway they had just abandoned. Cloud wasted no time in throwing open every door, hurriedly scanning the room beyond before moving to the next. He yelled Denzel's name as loudly as he could, despite the panting of his breath and the sound of his heart thudding loudly in his ears. There was not enough time, and he hands shook with the fear that he might not be quick enough.

"Denzel!" Slam! Another door struck the wall behind it with enough force to crack the plaster, but he hardly paid it any attention. It was an empty room yet again.

He cursed to himself, already backing up to race to the next one. "Denzel! Dammit! Where are you?" Cloud gritted his teeth, already considering a serious reprimand for the boy.

He threw open one more door, where the children had been playing earlier. "Den--" His voice caught in his throat at the sight of the familiar brown head, popping up from behind a table in the corner of the room. Cloud breathed a sigh of relief, even as his eyes narrowed, and he strode quickly across the room, boots clomping angrily.

"Why did you come back here?" he demanded.

Brown eyes, already red-rimmed, began to water again as Denzel's bottom lip trembled. "I promised," he cried, tears dripping from his eyes. "He said he was coming back for them. If… if…" He snuffled, angrily scrubbing at his face with the back of his hands as he trailed off.

Cloud frowned, not quite understanding as he reached forward and picked up Denzel's smaller weight easily, removing him from behind the table. Why he was there, the blond still had yet to figure out. Until his eyes caught a flash of silver dangling from the boy's right hand.

Sephiroth's military tags.

"I almost forgot them!" Denzel sniffled in explanation, looking up at Cloud with such devotion that it felt as if the blond were looking into a mirror from six years past, a reflection of himself. "If I had… he wouldn't have come back."

It was only the deduction of a child, to think that if Denzel didn't have the tags then Sephiroth wasn't coming either. For a moment, Cloud cursed Sephiroth for making that kind of promise with the boy, but then he realized that it wasn't the General's fault. He hadn't counted on such loyalty, just like he hadn't realized the depth of the devotion that Cloud had held for him all those years ago. He simply wasn't learned enough to recognize these things.

Cloud sighed as Denzel snuffled again, wiping at the boy's face with one of his own hands. "You worried us," he chastised, already heading for the door as the boy's fist closed protectively around the metal. Shaking his head, he gently pried it from Denzel's fingers with one hand and placed the chain around his neck. "You shouldn't have run off like that."

"I know," Denzel mumbled miserably, a hiccup following his words. He stared at the floor as they rushed down the hallway, clinging to Cloud especially tightly when another explosion rocked the building.

Cloud's eyes darkened with worry. He shifted Denzel so that the boy's limbs wrapped around him, making him easier to carry as he burst into the stairwell and begin to climb. "Hold tightly," he ordered. Cloud didn't want to drag Denzel behind him, so it left only one option.

"Okay." There was no argument from the boy, and it was then that Cloud felt his trembles, realizing that Denzel was indeed afraid. Yet, he had faced his own fears to return for an object that was very dear to him. In the back of his mind, Cloud fiercely ordered Sephiroth to return. He better not leave Denzel behind.

Moments later, they burst out onto the rooftop, Cloud's eyes widening in shock as darkness surrounded the building, leaving them unable to see anything beyond. It was as if they were suspended in a black hole but still had the light of the sun above them. It strained to break through the cloud barrier, as if it were just an ordinary bad weather day.

(Cloud! Look out!)

The warning was just enough to save him as he twisted to the side and placed a steadying hand on Denzel's back. He reflexively avoided some sort of magic attack that just missed him and slammed into the door he had emerged from, reducing it to twisted and scorched metal within an instant. He mentally sent his anima a thanks before rounding the corner, able to see Aeris and Rude waiting for him just beyond an blue bubble that was beginning to waver.

Ishvara's strength was growing thin.

Mocking cackles echoed around him. "You think you can escape me, mortal?" taunted Balaam, his voice seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

But to Cloud's sight, the roof appeared empty as if every enemy had suddenly decided to stop attacking. A sickening feeling settled in his belly, the uncomfortable notion that this was way too similar to his dream. He could almost taste his own blood in his mouth.

He longed to draw his blade but couldn't so long as he carried Denzel. Instead, he stepped up the pace, drawing the strength to run even faster, despite the weariness of his body. He had let himself get too out of shape in the months following the defeat of Sephiroth. He no longer had the stamina of before.

Cloud sensed the attack seconds before it hit, giving him enough time to curl his body around Denzel before the two of them were violently tackled to the ground. He cradled Denzel's head with his hands, protecting the boy as he heard Aeris' screams for him to get up. Two heavy weights covered him, one cackling maliciously as claws dug into his sides, easily piercing his skin.

Cloud winced.

He didn't matter, but Denzel had to get free.

When hot breath seared against the back of his neck, Cloud reacted without thinking, jabbing an elbow backwards. He connected with something solid, the sickening crunch of shattering bone and a howl of pain was all the escape he needed. He propped himself up, and the sound of Denzel's sobbing gave him strength as he pulled the boy out from underneath him.

"Don't look back," he urged, shoving another elbow backwards as he tried to wriggle around and reach the small pocket knife he usually kept at his side. "Just run." With that, he yanked his head back, trying to get free. Another weight settled on his back knocking the air from his lungs as a winged form approached from the corner of his vision.

More claws dug into Cloud's back, and when he looked up, Denzel still hadn't moved. The boy hesitated as he stared in wide-eyed horror at what had befallen his protector.

"Dammit," Cloud growled, banging a fist on the cement of the roof. "RUN!"

The boy jumped in shock and took several steps backwards with evident reluctance, clearly torn between his own safety and worrying about Cloud. He clutched tightly with one hand to the chain around his neck.

Behind the ex-SOLDIER, an enemy laughed dryly, and swordsman instinctively knew that it had plans to attack Denzel. His own arm shot out, catching the attacker's claw seconds before it would have struck. Mako blue met brown, and finally, nodding once, Denzel started to run. He headed directly towards Rude and Aeris, who were watching with horror.

Cloud breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived when fiery pain raced through his shoulder and thigh, fangs digging deep into his flesh. He arched his back and tried to buck off his opponents, gritting his teeth against the agony. The thought that the situation was all too familiar flashed through his mind, and suddenly, he knew.

His dream had been anything but.

Suddenly, a claw wrapped around his neck. It jerked him to his feet as he was pulled from under the pile of what he could only assume were other demi-deities. His body was shaken, rattling his brains, and he stared directly into amber eyes, vaguely reminiscent of Reeve. He didn't recognize this foe but considered that a moot point as they had made a grievous error.

He now had an arm free.

He kicked out with his foot, connecting with something solid, in the same moment that he reached behind him for Ultima Weapon. As the demi-deity reeled in front of him, grip slackening around the blond's neck, he wasted no time in swinging his sword. He hacked off the arm quickly, ignoring the blood spraying around him. He whirled, slashing out with the blade once more, watching with narrowed eyes as the three behind him eased back to avoid the blow. He instantly regretted his choice in equipping only Fire and Comet as both materia refused to respond to his call. He couldn't use magic, even if he wanted to.

"Cloud! Come on!" he heard Aeris say, her voice strained. He knew just from the sound that she was worried, but he couldn't even see her beyond the three forms that surrounded him, just vague glimpses of concerned vivid green eyes. Yet, he didn't think he could get to them.

"Our prey fights back, Hyperion," lisped one of them, a large and horned male that he belatedly realized was Ifrit. They circled around him, and he struggled to keep an eye on every enemy at once, heart thudding loudly in his chest.

Next to the deity of Flame, another snickered. He was big and brawny, and once again, Cloud tardily recognized Titan. Someone else who should have been on their side.

"It will be amusing to watch him fall," Hyperion rasped, cackling loudly.

"Cloud!"

"Just go!" he yelled back, fixing his glare on the demi-deity directly in front of him, this one looking very much like a human with eyes that appeared dull and lifeless. He shivered at the dead gaze, not certain if he would like to face this foe or not. The notion that they were all stronger than him fluttered around in his mind, and he swallowed thickly, heart thudding painfully in his chest as he tightened his grip on Ultima Weapon.

Across the roof, Aeris wrung her hands in fear, shaking her head as she watched five forms surround her husband. All were certainly more powerful than him, especially since his anima was not allowed to materialize.

And still, he wanted her to leave?

She couldn't do that! She could not just leave him behind.

"No!" she denied, ignoring everything else as she slashed her hand through the air. "I won't leave you!" She briefly caught a glimpse of blond spikes as Denzel clung to her clothes, and she wanted to dart forward, to do something rather than sit back and watch. Cloud was hurt, and she couldn't do anything from this distance; already, she could see the blood dripping to the rooftop.

She took an unconscious step forward, and at that moment, the deities tired of playing games. They attacked him as a group, the flash of Ultima Weapon her only hint that Cloud was still alive.

"Cloud!"

But a hand lay on her shoulder, preventing her from moving forward. Her gaze darted to the side briefly, noting Rude standing stoic. He refused to release her, and green eyes welled up with tears as she returned her attention to Cloud.

Aeris barely caught the rise and fall of the Ultima Weapon as one of the demi-deities staggered back from the battle, grunting and clutching his belly as he tried to stop the blood gushing from the wound Cloud had inflicted.

"Hephaestion! Get her out of here!"

"Cloud! No!"

Hephaestion appeared in a whirlwind beside her as the shield that covered them finally flickered and died, Ishvara slumping visibly to one knee. Her breath came in short pants, blood dripping from her lip from where she had bitten it in an effort to keep the barrier up. Her bond with Rude was simply too new to provide her with the strength she needed.

And it wasn't long before the enemy realized that they were essentially defenseless.

"Aeris," Hephaestion intoned softly, laying a gentle hand on his animus' shoulder as he carefully watched around them. "He wants you to go."

The flower-girl stubbornly shook her head, unable to stop watching her husband literally fight for his life. There was so much blood, and she could scarcely see him beyond the wall of enemies. He wasn't going to make it; feared filled her heart, one hand idly rubbing her belly as she swallowed down a sob.

She couldn't just leave him; she couldn't!

"And so the faithful have fallen!" Balaam cackled, drawing their attention upwards as he centered his crimson gaze on the small group of mortal and immortal below him, death in his eyes.

On either side of him, there were two other demi-deities, both in human form with equally empty expressions. The three landed at the same moment that Cloud managed to break free, limping but driven by the fear for his wife and his unborn child.

If she wasn't so stubborn! Couldn't she understand?

He narrowly ducked the swing of a weapon, almost falling over from the loss of blood. He leapt at Balaam, the Ultima Weapon slicing through one of the deity's webbed wings. His opponent staggered backwards, flexing and whirling to face his attacker as Cloud's eyes met Aeris'.

He silently begged her to leave. He couldn't live with himself if he failed to protect them.

The two accompanying Balaam exchanged glances, realizing there was nothing to stop them since Cloud was occupied and darted forward, immediately drawing their weapons. Fear filled mako eyes quickly as he stumbled, trying to maintain a grip already slickened with blood and sweat. He simply couldn't get to them in time.

"HEPHAESTION!" he shouted in the same moment that he gathered his strength and charged at Balaam. His sword raised high, only to meet with the deity's own weapon, a double-bladed pole. Balaam retracted, his greater strength easily overcoming the weakening human's as he pushed Cloud back.

The blond staggered, boots slipping on a pool of blood, and he lurched forward, the weight of the Ultima Weapon throwing him off balance. Blinding pain raced through his abdomen, more agony on top of the wounds he already suffered.

Across the roof, Hephaestion nodded, recognizing the desperation in Cloud's tone. Ignoring Aeris' protests, he whispered the words to teleport them away.

"No!" the flower-girl screamed, but it was too late. As Balaam dealt another blow to the exhausted ex-SOLDIER, they disappeared in a morbidly cheery twinkle, far away from the reaches of Balaam's army.

The tingle of magic in the air filled Cloud with a sigh of relief, despite the pain. He struggled to keep consciousness, coughing blood out onto the rooftop. The Ultima Sword slammed into the concrete, his fingers tightly gripping the hilt. It was his only means for staying upright as the deities cackled around him, not attacking any more but seeming content to taunt him. They knew he could not last any longer; he was only mortal.

In front of him, on the edge of his dim vision, Balaam stepped forward, flexing his claws. "The so-called hero," he sneered, darting forward and slashing out at the blond, who only barely managed to avoid the blow. "If we kill you, then the others will crumble," he gloated as his comrades laughed.

"They're… stronger than that," Cloud growled, looking up through the one eye that was not sealed shut with the blood from the wound on his forehead. "If I'm going down, then at least one of you is coming with me."

Something whipped across his back then, and he arched, gritting his teeth against a cry of pain. His attacker snickered, lashing at him again, but Cloud was prepared that time, twisting to avoid the blow. Only the movement landed him in direct range of Balaam once more.

The Chaos deity's claw snapped out, grabbing Cloud immediately by the neck and lifting him off the ground. He squeezed the frail flesh as the others whooped and cheered for blood around him.

"No one ever said the believed 'good' guys have to win," Balaam jeered, his laughter a harsh grating chuckle deep in his throat.

The nauseating odor of his sulfurous breath caused Cloud to gag as he struggled for air, scratching in vain at Balaam's wrist. Stars were beginning to dance in his eyes, strength draining from him, but suddenly, dark storms gathered above them, cutting off all but the barest hints of light. They crackled and thundered, and lightning struck in jagged arcs on the roof, actually hitting quite a few of the deities.

"What is this!" Balaam snarled, tossing Cloud to the ground without any ceremony. His eyes turned upwards as the blond bounced on the roof, coughing and struggling to rise.

A chill swept across the roof as one of the deities sucked in a sharp exhale.

"Iblion!" the unnamed one screeched. "It's Iblion!"

Crimson eyes narrowed as Balaam growled, whirling around to face the one who had spoken. "He's in confinement!"

"Was," corrected a voice, suddenly booming from above them. A sharp stab of lightning suddenly struck the rooftop in front of Cloud, and as the blond blinked away the bright spots in his eyes, he saw his anima standing before him, looking a lot younger than he had suspected. Then again, considering Iblion's tendency to tease him and call him by nicknames, he should have known better.

"You're late," Cloud rasped, wobbling as he rose to his feet and managed to lock his grip on the Ultima Weapon once more. He felt strengthened simply by the arrival of both Iblion and by the familiar feel of his blade. He limped towards his anima, managing to stand back to back with the incredibly tall deity, who had assumed human form.

The Iblion turned to look over at his shoulders at his animus, regret and sorrow darkening his pale green eyes. "I am sorry, Cloud. It took much longer to break out of confinement than I had anticipated." He swept his gaze over the blood-streaked body, managing a slight smirk. "Had a rough time I take it?"

Cloud growled, clearly not amused. "If I had, you would have been shit out of luck!"

"They are only going to confine you again, Iblion," Balaam sneered, interrupting their conversation as he twirled his weapon in one clawed hand. "The fools will keep you locked up for even longer than before."

Iblion merely nodded, hands twitching at his side as a pair of half-axes appeared in each with a small flare of flame. "If it is the price I must pay to fight alongside my animus, then so shall it be." His eyes narrowed to angry slits then as a wind whipped through the area, both a mixture of frost and flame. "If it means I have the opportunity to fight against you, then I will consider it worth it all."

"If I'm going down, I'm taking someone down with me," Cloud snarled, tightening his grip on the Ultima Sword as he gathered up all of his remaining strength.

Iblion could not teleport; there was literally no escape. He had no illusions. They could not defeat so many, but he'd be damned if he went down without a fight.

Balaam growled. "You can try!" He leapt forward, letting out a cry of battle as the other deities around them joined in as well.

Iblion and Cloud exchanged glances of agreement, determination and fury shining in their eyes. The two opposing forces met with fierce clangs, an aura of power literally rising up between them as the sky crackled and thundered.

Blood splattered. Howls of pain echoed. Weapons cracked into pieces.

And the world shattered.

* * *

A burst of magic flexed before it popped, suddenly depositing them just outside of Fort Condor… where the others waited with held breaths. Aeris' knees buckled beneath her, and it was only Hephaestion's quick reaction that saved her from stumbling to the ground. Not but a moment more, she jerked her arm from his grip and whirled around on him, tears shining her eyes.

"Why did you make me leave?" she shouted, her frustration and anger evident in her tone. Her hand slashed through the air, the other wrapped protectively around her womb. "We could have done something! We could have helped!"

She turned on Rude then, the former Turk already making his way to his wife's side. "We could have saved him, but you held me back!" she yelled, the sickening feeling that something was terribly wrong curling in her gut. She knew that she shouldn't be blaming them for trying to help, that she shouldn't turn her frustration onto her friends. Not when she really blamed herself.

Those gathered outside Fort Condor watched the distraught female with a mixture of sadness and regret, Elmyra clinging onto Barret as Marlene clutched her dress. Rude and Shera were in each other's arms. Reis' face was pinched with sympathy. Only Denzel stayed by Aeris' side, trying to comfort her as tears of his own streaked down his face.

All the signs, the restlessness, the uneasy fear… she should have known! They could have prepared; she could have done something. And Cloud--

Dammit! He must have known something ahead of time. Otherwise, he would have never said those things. A sob curled up in Aeris' throat, and she held a hand to her mouth, turning away from the others and ceasing in her accusations.

Her child fidgeted within her womb, as if suddenly aware of something she was not. Aeris moved to soothe her with a few rubs when suddenly she felt it too, something shattering deep inside of her. Despair crawled in so quickly that it nearly consumed her, along with the sudden feeling of being inexplicably alone. And she knew, _she knew_, that something had happened in Midgar.

"Oh, god," she whispered, her body going completely still, more hot tears streaking down her cheeks. "No…."

To either side of her, Hephaestion and Ishvara exchanged sudden knowing glances, eyes widening with their realization. "We have lost Iblion," the Ice goddess murmured, lowering her gaze to the ground in sudden sorrow.

Hephaestion nodded. "And Cadoc and Tonberry have fallen as well."

Aeris whirled on them, reddened eyes instantly narrowed with angry. "Who cares about the enemy," she cried, shaking her head quickly. "Who cares at all…"

Her words trailed off, losing their intensity as her entire body began to tremble. Her hands automatically went to her belly, trying to calm the restless movement of the infant, who had unfortunately inherited far too much of her mother's sensitivity and was aware that something horrible had happened. Her knees buckled beneath her as sorrow swept through her body so quickly that she lost all her strength, but Hephaestion was there just as hastily, putting an arm around her as she lowered to the rocky ground, unable to remain standing.

Denzel looked confused, uncertain as to what was going on. No one was explaining something and his new mother was crying.

"Where is Cloud?" he asked, looking up with baffled eyes at the older demi-deity.

But it was Aeris who answered, voice barely distinguishable above the choking sobs.

"He's gone," she responded in a broken whisper. "He's gone."

* * *

A/N: ... please, don't kill me. 


	64. Crimson Tears

A/N: I apologize for Cloud's death in the last chapter, but believe me when I say it had to be done. More about it will be explained in upcoming chapters. Please, continue to enjoy.

**Chapter 64: Crimson Tears**

"There's no fuckin' end to 'em," Cid wheezed, taking another unconscious step backwards. For as many as he had killed, he was glad that the monsters dissolved to ash otherwise corpses would have surrounded them. They were odorous enough alive. To make matters worse, most of the enemies were kinds that Cid had never seen before, as if that bastard Hojo were still alive and experimenting. It was a sobering thought.

He speared another strange penguin-lion crossover creature as he snorted. "We're never goin' to get to Balaam if this keeps up!" he added for good measure.

Vincent rolled his eyes as he rapidly reloaded his gun, half-fearing that he might run out of ammunition. Not that many hadn't fallen to his claw already. It had been a good decision to replace it on his hand and for once, looking at it did not bring the same revulsion as it did before.

"Leave the pessimistic proclamations to me," the gunman teased.

Cid chuckled dryly as he wiped a thin stream of sweat from his brow, allowing a brief moment's respite to sweep his gaze over the battleground nearest to them. He, Vincent, the Turks, and Nanaki had been separated from the others when the monsters attacked, but he assumed that they were fine. After all, Sephiroth wasn't a man that went down easy and Archer was too damn stubborn to die.

When the lights had disappeared, only to be promptly followed by the sound of a large boulder scraping across the ground, the friends had immediately drawn as close to each other as they could, even though they couldn't see each other in the darkness. Erebus had whispered to Vincent that they weren't alone, and in the same moment that Sephiroth called for Suzaku to relight the torches, Asclepius had quickly cast a barrier over all of them, the pink and purple sparkles filling the air barely bright enough to pierce the gloom.

And when Suzaku's flames revealed that they were surrounded, the only thing on their minds was a collective 'oh shit.' Behind them, it was plainly visible that a large boulder now blocked each of the three exits. Standing before them, a demi-deity and a huge group of the larger creatures were grinning maliciously, just waiting to be challenged.

There had been no warning before the monsters attacked and within seconds, they were in a battle for their lives against a certifiable horde of foes all hungry for blood and flesh-rending.

A low growl was Cid's only caveat before he whirled to the right and sliced his spear through the air, efficiently gutting a monster he couldn't even recognize. Another one of Hojo's insane creations. Blood spattered to the ground but Cid had no time to contemplate it as he half-turned, tossing out a few random spells from his arsenal. The sound of Vincent's gun was reassuring at his back.

To his right, Tseng was holding his own against the hordes. Twin blades flashed into the torchlight, one of Fire and one of Ice, simultaneously tearing through one beast after another. Reno was near to him, fluidly moving through the horde and zapping anything that came close. The redheaded Turk would have had a grim look to his face, were it not for the fact that he was smiling so broadly, almost appearing as if he were having fun.

"Ain't nothin' like the sneaky kill'em missions, is it, boss?" Reno called out, jabbing his Electro Rod into the gut of one creature and smirking when a smaller, weaker demon threw itself at him, only to ripple as it struck an invisible barrier. There was a hiss and a cry of pain as the monster was repelled over twenty feet away, crashing down into a beast that had been poised to strike Nanaki from behind.

Piece of cake.

Silvery eyes narrowed slightly as Tseng shook his head. "Concentrate on the battle, Reno," he reprimanded in an even tone, twin blades flashing as he whipped the Tenken. He only half-watched as blood spattered to the by now gore-soaked ground, already whirling to face another opponent. It seemed they were endless.

"Survive this battle and perhaps then I'll allow you to bore me with your version of a joke."

A bark of laughter escaped Reno's mouth. "So, he does have a sense of humor, yo." But the chuckles died in his throat when a sudden chill raced up his spine, sending his entire body into a cold shudder. His skin prickled and fear spiked through him, a fear that was not his own. At the same time, a cry of terror filtered through to Reno's ears.

He could feel it.

Reno whipped around, aquamarine eyes automatically searching for his anima, only to widen in shock when he found her pinned beneath a huge creature, twice the size of a Behemoth and equally deadly. His fingers tightened around his weapon as another sharp stab of fear assailed him and Reno sucked in a deep breath. Behind him, Tseng suddenly whirled around.

"Asclepius!" The Wutaiian cried, in a voice that was not his own, startling Reno with its intensity. "My child--" His words cut off as he suddenly gasped and grabbed his own head, nearly doubling over in pain.

Reno jerked and swiveled, stabbing his Electro Rod through a monster that thought it would attack his boss from behind. As electricity jerked through the beast, he pulled his weapon free and turned back towards the cry of fear he had heard.

The urgency in Tseng's voice called to the dread that resonated within Reno and the Turk started forward, body on automatic as he idly stabbed at a monster that sought to get in his way. His eyes were trained on the beast, huge maws snapping at Asclepius' neck as the bubbly deity writhed about beneath it, in a desperate attempt to remain uninjured.

But before Reno could get any more than three steps, a black blur whirred past him, nearly knocking him aside. He gaped as Erebus appeared in a swirl of black cloaks out of seemingly nowhere, raging like a rampant bull. He slashed through three beasts that stood in his way without a second glance, storming across the battlefield until he reached Asclepius.

The scythe in his hand rose and fell quickly, glinting eerily in the orange torchlight. The large beast didn't even stand a chance as Erebus grabbed Asclepius' arm and dragged her out from under the monster, jerking her protectively against his body with one arm. She didn't bother to squirm in his hold, looking visibly relieved as he ruthlessly consumed the beast in a cloud of swirling blackness.

The monster roared and spat, straining against the clinging tendrils of the overshadowing dark. Erebus didn't spare it another glance, his heart still pounding madly in his chest from fear for her. He turned away from the dying beast, finally feeling as if he could release Asclepius. He spun her around to face him, both of his hands clenched tightly to her shoulders.

"You are defense, Asclepius," he snarled, feeling his entire body trembling from the force of the fright that had wracked him. "You don't belong here."

Garnet eyes opened impossibly wide. "What?" she demanded, hands curling into fists at her side.

He shook his head. "Just... go somewhere safe. The battlefield is not for you," he suggested angrily.

She stared at him for a moment, glaring angrily though he could see tears shimmering in her eyes. For a moment, his resolve faltered and he opened his mouth to apologize or something.

"Fine," she spat, her jaw set with anger. "I'll only help when Reno calls for me. Like a good, little _girl_." Before he could say anything, she promptly disappeared in a sparkling twinkle.

He regretted his harsh words in that instant but there was nothing he could do at the moment. He would have to explain to her later, somehow mollify her anger but for the moment, he would return to battle. Erebus took a deep breath and summoned up his scythe once more, turning to rake his gaze over the battlefield. His eyes caught sight of Vincent and Cid, working their way through a small contingent of Razor Weeds with their goal obviously set for the exit and the two demi-deities blocking it.

A Behemoth came pounding across the bloodstained ground, heading straight for Erebus. He ignored it, sending another spray of consuming darkness towards the creature before he hurried across the ground, making his way to Vincent's side. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the Turk finding his way to them as well, leaving Nanaki and Reno to cover their back. A wise strategy.

"Byakko," Erebus hissed as he drew up beside Vincent. His gaze swept over the deity next to the demi-human form of Byakko, immediately recognizing the others. "Lionel is to his left, and the one in the red overcoat is Lancelot, they are both Arthur's knights."

Vincent nodded, cocking the Hell Fire with smooth movements as his claw clicked at his side. On his other side, Cid growled low in his throat, hands tightening on his spear.

"Don't matter who they are," the pilot muttered, eyes narrowing with fury. "We take them all out."

A deep chuckle echoed around them, mocking them as their attention turned towards Byakko, standing before the huge boulder that blocked their exit. Byakko was in his humanesque form, fur sprouted all over his body with flashing crimson eyes. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest, and gleaming claws, much like Nanaki's weapon, glittered on each hand. He laughed again as their faces darkened with anger.

Byakko sneered. "Well, aren't you familiar?" he scoffed, flicking one clawed hand at them as his gaze zeroed in on the furious pilot. Beside him, Lionel and Lancelot stared with dead expressions, not even blinking as they gripped tightly to their weapons, a staff and a spear respectively.

"What the hell're you talking about?" Cid demanded, the sounds of the battlefield behind him barely filtering through to his conscious. He trusted that Nanaki and Reno would watch his back, however.

The demi-deity laughed scornfully before flicking a wrist, causing his subordinates to attack without warning. Something unholy glinted in Lancelot's brown eyes as he launched himself at Tseng. The Turk quickly brought up his swords in retaliation and the deity's spear met it with a fierce clang as Tseng was pushed backwards, almost tripping over a corpse. Some of Hojo's creations didn't dissolve like the others, leaving them to wonder what the foul scientist had been up to.

"Tseng!" Vincent yelled over his shoulder, already firing several rounds into some of the lesser demons that were flying over him.

The Wutaiian shook his head, vigorously defending against the rapid-fire attacks as his brain pounded in his skull, words trying to break through his mental barriers. "Don't worry about me!" he ordered through clenched teeth. "Take that bastard down." He dug his boots into the ground, stopping his retreat and darting forward, instantly going on the offensive against Lancelot.

Vincent nodded in understanding, turning his attention back towards the fight in front of him as Lionel threw himself into battle with Erebus, with little regard for his own safety. His eyes were dead, lifeless, as he moved quickly enough to tear a hole in the other deity's robes, sending pieces of the onyx fabric fluttering to the ground. Erebus' eyes flashed as he growled and retaliated, thrusting out a clawed hand and grabbing Lionel's arm.

The man didn't even scream as his clothing melted away and his flesh bubbled up beneath Erebus' touch. He didn't flinch or pull away, merely jerked his other arm forward and shoved his staff into Erebus' shoulder. The cracking of bone filled the air as Erebus growled in pain, wrenching angrily on Lionel's arm in revenge. The knight stumbled forward, succumbing to the greater strength as the two began to grapple in earnest, nearly bowling over Cid who was left standing alone, facing down Byakko.

Byakko snarled and swiped at the pilot with one of his massive metal claws. Quickly, Cid stepped to the side and blocked the blow with his spear. Another arm came down, chopping down hard into his shoulder and nearly causing him to drop his weapon. Cid whirled out from beneath Byakko's arm and attempted to cast a Fire but to his surprise, it sputtered and died, the materia flaring brightly once before cracking clean down the middle and falling out of his spear.

Blue eyes blinked in shock and Byakko wasted no time in waiting for him to regain his senses. In a flash, he was behind Cid, moving abnormally fast, and slicing a claw across Cid's back. He tore easily through the pilot's clothes, ripping into the tender flesh beneath and causing Cid to stumble forward, gritting his teeth against the pain.

He whirled on his heels, quickly regaining his balance as his jabbed his spear behind him with a twirl of his fingers. Great luck managed to land the blow on Byakko's shoulder, sending tufts of white hair into the air and scraping deeply into the flesh. Cid smirked but Byakko was not pleased.

The demi-deity immediately snarled and grabbed the weapon, pulling it from Cid's arms with his greater strength and tossing it aside where it clattered uselessly to the ground. With his opponent weaponless, Byakko grinned maliciously.

"This is why I abandoned you," he taunted as the pilot threw a clumsy fist at him, clipping across the cheekbone. "Humans are weak." Byakko blocked the next fist easily, countering with a quick move that Cid smoothly sidestepped, managing not to trip on the huge rock beneath his foot.

"What the fuck are you talkin' bout?" Cid exclaimed in return, lashing out with a boot and slamming it into the busily chortling deity's belly.

Byakko grunted and pounded forward, his claws rapidly wrapping around the pilot's neck. He squeezed with little ceremony as Cid gasped and clawed at the hand. Talons snapped through Byakko's fingers, digging into the flesh of Cid's neck and drawing red ribbons of blood, causing the blond to hiss in pain as he flailed with his other foot.

Spots were just beginning to dance in front of his eyes when a gunshot echoed through the air, ripping through Byakko's arm and causing him to drop Cid in surprise. The pilot dropped to his hands and knees, gasping as he coughed and struggled to draw air into his lungs. Byakko whirled in anger, blood dripping bright red to the ground as he glared at Vincent, whose expression was equally cold. Another gunshot rang out but Byakko was prepared for this one and he deflected it easily with his claw.

"Get away from him," Vincent demanded, cocking his gun once more as his claw hand began to glow with the beginnings of a spell.

Byakko laughed and idly licked the blood from his wound with one rough tongue. "And if I don't?" he mocked, crimson eyes flashing.

On the ground, Cid could feel blood streaming through his fingers and dripping steadily to the ground from his many wounds. But he wasn't going to stand aside and let Vincent fight on his own either. He quickly swept his gaze across the ground, seeking out his spear and finally spotting it several feet away, half-buried under a corpse. He scrabbled across the ground towards it as another gunshot echoed through the air.

Byakko turned into a blur of cold air as he disappeared from in front of Vincent, only to reappear behind him just as quickly. The gunman was prepared for that move however, and turned, squeezing off another round before Byakko could even manage to raise an arm. The bullet grazed Byakko's neck as a rock threw Vincent off balance, but it wasn't wasted as it kept on going, sinking directly into the forehead of a goat-headed beast standing behind Byakko.

The demi-deity roared, slashing out with a claw, only to be deflected by Vincent's golden claw, finally finding a use for the thing he had once despised. Byakko smirked, revealing sharpened canines as he reached to attack with his other hand, only to find it blocked by a reeling Cid, who was rapidly losing blood.

The Hell Fire was raised as Vincent balanced it on his arm, cocking it one smooth motion. Crimson eyes widened but the ex-Turk merely smirked as he fired with little warning. The bullet flew true, but missed when Byakko suddenly disappeared, using the same trick as before. The lovers turned, eyes frantically scanned the battlefield, looking for their opponent.

Tseng was still locked in a deadly duel with his opponent but he appeared to be winning, with very little injuries. Of Erebus, they saw no sign, not that Vincent was particularly worried. He was certain that the demi-deity could take care of himself.

A pig-faced creature chose that moment to attack and Vincent spun, quickly firing a round into the beast's chest. Byakko suddenly made his reappearance, grinning maliciously as he swirled to existence behind Cid, sending a chilly burst of ice across the pilot's flesh. A clawed hand grabbed the pilot's spear in the same moment as fangs clamped down on Cid's shoulder, biting through flesh and bone without any effort.

Cid cried out in pain, his entire body seizing up as his fingers reflexively tightened around his spear. His head throbbed with pain and words began to enter his mind in a hissing, taunting voice. _'You think I'd want to be connected to someone as pitiful as you?'_ the voice jeered, accompanied by a rasping mocking laughter.

Drawn by the sound of the pilot's cry, Vincent whirled and shot again, rapidly reloading the Hell Fire as he stormed closer. The bullet scraped across the beast's head, taking off one feline ear. Grey eyes flashed with fury as the bullets slid into the chamber and as he cocked the gun to fire again, Vincent suddenly disappeared in a flurry of fur and teeth. Some strange type of hybrid knocked him to the ground and Cid couldn't even see his lover beneath the bulk.

"Vince!" Cid snarled, jerking to get free. He could feel the slimy warmth of Byakko's blood dripping onto him even as his own slithered down his arm. Fueled by concern for his lover, he ripped his shoulder free from Byakko's fangs, not caring for the tearing of bone as he jerked his spear free from the deity's grasp. He half-turned, gritting his teeth against the piercing agony, and moving so fast that even Byakko was surprised.

His spear pierced through a white-fur covered gut in spray of blood and gore, a sickening crunch echoed as the metal tip emerged from the other side.

"I don't know what the hell you're talkin' bout," Cid growled, twisting the Venus Gospel within Byakko and causing the demi-deity to grunt in pain. "But I ain't the one dying here either."

He jerked out the spear and slashed it across Byakko's throat before the demi-deity could even react. Crimson eyes flashed with continued ridicule even as he met his death with a fanged smirk. The white demi-deity dissolved in a cloud of greyish dust and ash, presumably to return to Elysium.

Grunting, Cid's spear fell from his nerveless fingers as he immediately slumped, clutching one hand to his wounded shoulder. He panted, trying desperately to draw in a breath. He couldn't feel his injured arm and blood seemed to trickle from his entire body, so thick that he left bloody footprints in his wake as he immediately turned to find his lover.

Sky blue eyes raked over the battlefield, catching sight of Vincent. He released a sigh of relief at that, noting that his dark-haired lover was perfectly unharmed. Cid grimaced as another sharp stab of pain shot through him and he turned towards Vincent, only to suddenly drop to his knees when a magic attack struck out of nowhere, catching him unaware. Lightning hit him in the dead center of his back, short-circuiting everything inside of him.

A gunshot echoed in its wake.

Already weakened from blood loss, his knees hit the ground as his vision immediately darkened. The world began to spin rapidly and the urge to vomit rose up in his throat. He teetered forwards, barely able to keep himself up with the one working hand as he only dimly registered that someone had called his name.

Then hands were on his shoulders, forcing him to raise his bleary gaze and stare directly into worried grey eyes. "Cid," Vincent murmured fearfully. "Oh gods, you're bleeding everywhere." One hand frantically dug into his pockets, trying to find a materia or a potion or _something_. But his hands were trembling, he wasn't moving fast enough, and Cid was still bleeding.

Sky blue eyes were unfocused as they looked at him, and Cid's breathing was harsh, labored. Vincent raised his gaze, looking for help. Tseng was just finishing off his opponent; the knight dissolving in grey ash but luckily, Erebus was heading his way. The battle had been won, most of the minor creatures defeated around them. The exit was now unguarded.

Suddenly, Cid went limp in his arms, lost to unconsciousness and Vincent's heart stopped. Frantically, he felt for a pulse, pressing his unclawed hand to Cid's neck as he summoned up his only Life to mind. He didn't breathe again until he located the pulse, weak and slow, but there.

Hopefully, Erebus would be able to heal him somehow.

Hopefully, they would come out of this alive.

* * *

Sephiroth blocked Caradoc's heavy sword with one hand, effortlessly continuing the duel. He absentmindedly wiped sweat from his brow with his free hand as deadened eyes stared at him over the glint of their interlocked weapons. He stared back just as resolutely before he allowed his eyes to flicker to the other body that was lying on the ground. Dinadan was slowly beginning to rise, not yet defeated and in the back of his mind, he wondered where both Zack and Gilgamesh were.

Luckily, his duel with the two demi-deities seemed to be an unspoken warning to the other minor monsters to stay away. At least, for the moment anyways.

Caradoc shifted on the edge of his vision and his eyes darted back to the duel. The demi-deity pushed forward mindlessly, his face completely impassive. There was a brief interchange of power between them before Caradoc surged forward, ending the stalemate.

The former General recoiled quickly, regaining his momentum with practiced ease and slashing his sword forward. His blade nicked Caradoc across the arm, drawing a slow upwelling of blood as Caradoc swung at him. Their swords met in a bone-jarring clang, blades scraping on one another. Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth waved his free hand, tossing a Poison at Caradoc effortlessly.

The knight blinked in confusion before he began to cough, a greenish tinge taking over his complexion. Caradoc stumbled backwards and in the distraction, Sephiroth pressed forward, taking the initiative. Until his senses flared to life, sending a trickle down his spine. On instinct, he suddenly leapt backwards in one smooth motion, just managing to avoid the axe that had come screeching through the air, aiming for his head.

It appeared that the spell he had thrown at Dinadan had not held out for long.

Empty grey eyes, all too similar to Valentine's, stared back at him unemotionally as Dinadan viciously slashed at him with the battle axe. The noise of their blades meeting in succession was lost to the din of battle. Then something flickered across the placid facade before him. Sephiroth's eyes widened as he hastily constructed a shield around himself, moments before the first arcs of wind daggers slammed into him.

He was pushed backwards by several feet from the force of the close-range magic but he dug his heels into the ground and tightened his fingers around the hilt of the Masamune. He darted forward, moving far faster than he even knew he could, and found himself behind Dinadan, primed to strike.

The demi-deity whirled to defend and their weapons met once more with a jarring blow. There was an audible crack as a slight fracture split across one head of Dinadan's axe. The deity's brow twitched before he retracted, spinning on one heel to strike again. Sephiroth snarled, irritated by the games they were unintentionally playing as he ferociously countered, thus beginning another rapid exchange of blows that would have been difficult to follow by anyone else' eyes.

A slight presence impressed on the back of his mind and he knew without looking that Gilgamesh was near.

(Dinadan had always been a little reckless.) Gilgamesh chuckled within Sephiroth's mind, sounding slightly breathless. (More of a hack-n-slash, much like Zack, than any real strategy.)

'Lucky me,' Sephiroth responded with a roll of his eyes as he twisted his body to the side to avoid a jab from the axe, easily countering the somewhat desperate move.

Their blades locked as Gilgamesh laughed again. (Ah, nothing like a good solid fight to make--)

Sephiroth's honed battle senses flared to life and he shoved all his strength against Dinadan, forcing the man several paces backwards before he spun on a heel, Masamune raised to defend. Until a blade, much larger than his, flashed out of the darkness, intercepting Caradoc's attack with ease. Zack threw a smirk at him over his shoulder.

"Miss me?" the spiky-haired man teased as he turned back towards Caradoc, forcing his strength into his arms and pushing against his opponent with a great burst of muscle.

Caradoc didn't stand a chance.

Smirking, Sephiroth returned his attention to Dinadan, summoning up an Ultima. With just one battle now, he was certain it would be over quickly. As the axe-wielder rushed at him, he released the green fire magic, watching as it engulfed Dinadan when he didn't even bother to block it. Sephiroth grimaced as the Ultima consumed him, yet Dinadan still pressed forward.

On the edge of his vision, he caught sight of Zack dispatching Caradoc with a right, uppercut and he gripped the Masamune tightly. Moss green eyes looked into Dinadan's expression as he raised his blade and slashed it across Dinadan's chest, slicing him at least several inches deep. It was enough to kill him. Something flashed in the deity's eyes, it might have even been gratitude, before he crumpled to the ground, only to dissolve into an ashy cloud.

"Not bad," Zack commented, sidling up beside him and idly wiping soot from his brow.

Sephiroth snorted. "I see you managed to watch your own back for once," he commented, idly scanning the battle as he cast a quick spray of Ultima over a cluster of demons. The enemies' numbers were dwindling, nothing at all like the hordes that had attacked at the beginning of the battle.

They were winning.

Beside him, Zack rolled his eyes, swiping a stream of sweat from his brow. "Makes you think about the good old days, doesn't it?" he questioned, rolling his shoulders to ease his aching muscles and flexing his fingers around the hilt of the Zanken. "Admit it, Seph. You're loving it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sephiroth responded reprimanding, twisting his body to find the rest of his fighting crew. However, in the smoke and ash that permeated the air as well as the fact that several torches had been snuffed out during the battle, he couldn't see anyone. Cries of pain and the clash of weapons were both too loud for his abnormal senses to hear as well. He had no choice but to trust in their abilities, and believe that the subtle surges in power he kept feeling belonged to their side and not the other.

A strange whistle, unique to the sounds of battle, was his only warning before four forms emerged out of the smoky haze, converging on he and Zack. The best friends were forced to leap backwards to avoid a spray of flame in their direction, Zack nearly losing some of his spikes. Instant recognition dawned in Sephiroth's features for one of the forms.

"Balaam," he hissed, as he and Zack stared down their four demi-deity opponents. They began to circle around each other in slow movements, two of Balaam's cronies holding the same dead-eyed look as the others that Sephiroth had fought, and they were human... or human-looking.

The coal-eyed demon laughed, idly examining the talons on his claws. "Are you enjoying the trap that I have created for you?" he questioned mockingly, a trident clutched in his other hand.

(Stall them, Sephiroth,) Gilgamesh suddenly muttered in his mind. (I am almost there and I will handle Owain and Gawaine.)

The former General nodded mutely, agreeing internally as he returned his attention to his enemies.

"We took great pains to create it for you," the woman on the left side of Balaam was purring, her eyes roaming over Sephiroth and Zack appraisingly. "Though it is a pity that we have to ruin such pretty faces."

"Enough, Raidne," Balaam snarled, shooting her a quieting glance. "Leave your seductions to worthier creatures. These mortals are not worth that much mind."

Zack's eyes narrowed to icy blue slits. All look of teasing was gone from his expression as the serious SOLDIER finally came out to play. Even Balaam looked a little nervous.

"You'll regret ever starting this damned war," Zack hissed, boot sliding with a scrape over the blood-stained, rocky ground beneath him.

"Will I now?" Balaam shot back.

An eyebrow twitched as they stared each other down.

Then a red cloak fluttered out of the darkness. One of the knights at Balaam's side abruptly turned as his senses flared, moving to block Gilgamesh's sword. The God of Destruction was unperturbed, quickly slicing at him with another one of his blades. They were quickly locked in a deadly duel, leaving only three others for Sephiroth and Zack.

Raidne smirked and stepped back as Balaam threw out an arm, casting the first spell. Zack darted forward, past the magic, heading straight for the other knight with the dead stare, leaving Balaam and Sephiroth to face off. Raidne seemed disinclined to join the battle, standing off to the side and admiring her gaudily painted fingernails.

Clang!

Balaam's spear grazed past Sephiroth's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood and the former General retaliated quickly, ducking under the long reach before Balaam could retract the spear and slicing upwards at his opponent. The Masamune caught in Balaam's wings, tearing through the velvety flesh and nearly lodging in the bone of a joint.

Sephiroth didn't waste any time in trying to pull it free. As Balaam growled and slashed at him with a claw, Sephiroth twisted his body to the side and slammed a fist into his gut. He received a grunt for his efforts before Balaam chopped a hand down on his arm with enough force to leave a bruise. He clenched his teeth against the throbbing pain however and shifted his weight, kicking upwards with unnatural speed and snapping one of his boots against Balaam's knees.

There was a very audible crack as Balaam howled and staggered backwards, finally separating their interlocked forms. It was enough to release the Masamune from its trap in Balaam's wings. Panting softly, energy starting to wane after so many subsequent battles, Sephiroth wiped sweat from his brow and blood from his cheek. He flexed his fingers around the hilt of Masamune before suddenly jerking backwards to avoid the long reach of Balaam's trident which was even longer than the seven feet of Masamune. The deity had recovered far quicker than he had expected.

His feet skittered across the ground and he stumbled, boot catching on an overly large rock. Balaam grinned maliciously at this foible and pressed forward, swinging his weapon to the right and catching Sephiroth in the side. The former General grunted as pain raced through his chest but slammed his arm down anyways, locking it around the pole.

He locked his elbow and jerked, trying to yank it from Balaam's grasp even as he regained his balance. He darted forward, refusing to relinquish his grip on Balaam's weapon and attacked, slashing the Masamune through the air. Balaam growled and threw up an arm for defense.

A bright splash of blood spilled into the air.

Sephiroth smirked, pulling the pole even closer to his body.

"Is that the best you can do?" Balaam taunted, coal eyes flashing with crimson fire. He dug his foot into the ground and cast a spell with his free arm.

A stream of flame, the same that they had been forced to avoid earlier, hit Sephiroth full force in the chest, sending him flying backwards. It was only with great effort that he retained hold of his sword as he hit the ground several feet away, surviving thanks to the shield he had cast earlier which was reaching its limits. He smacked into the rocky battleground, his entire body jarring from the force of the magic.

With a thud, Zack landed beside him, grunting as he rolled over on his side and coughed audibly. "Something is off with that guy," Zack grunted as he pushed a hand into the ground and struggled to rise to his feet. "He didn't even wince when I nearly cut off his arm."

Sephiroth gritted his teeth as he gingerly rose as well, both males staggering to their feet and standing back to back. Their opponents began to emerge out of the darkness, this time with Raidne standing at their backs.

"Don't worry about it," Sephiroth commented. "Just defeat him."

Zack nodded, flexing his fingers around the Zanken and staring resolutely at his approaching opponent.

Until Raidne stepped forward. "It's a concoction of my own," she informed them as she spread the fingers of one hand towards them. "Have a little taste."

A spray of gas, a discouraging, sickly purple color surged towards them, far faster than they had expected and immediately surrounded their forms. They coughed and sputtered in the poison, dizziness striking so suddenly that they doubled over. Zack immediately dropped to one knee, balling his hand up into a fist and punching the ground.

A wave of power rippled through the stone, sending jagged pillars of rock jutting up from the ground and heading straight for Raidne. It was too fast for her to avoid and it struck her immediately, sending the seductress flying into the air, far away from the battlefield.

The knight and Balaam took that moment to attack, having circled around their opponents. Sephiroth and Zack stood back to back, locked in a deadly duel with their opponents, still trying to blink the poison from their eyes. The exchange of blades among the four fighting males would have been amazing to see, could anyone actually follow the rapid clangs.

Then, a stroke of luck.

Zack's opponent stumbled and Zack took full advantage of that. He shoved a palm into the knight's chest, striking with the same force as a boulder. The other male went flying backwards, digging furrows into the ground. Sephiroth barely noticed this on the corner of his senses as he hastily blocked a blow from Balaam, unconsciously taking a step backwards. Balaam sneered and slashed at him with one of his claws and Sephiroth twisted out of the way, whirling on one heel to slice upwards with the Murasame, cutting the winged deity across the waist.

Suddenly, an invisible weight thumped Sephiroth in the chest, feeling as if he had been struck with a hammer. He gasped, faltering in his stance as behind him, Zack let out an unearthly screech of agony, abruptly dropping to his knees. The Zanken clattered to the ground as his hands gripped his head, pain wracking his entire body. There were voices, millions of them, screaming inside his head and it felt as if they were tearing his brain apart.

Sephiroth turned towards Zack, fearing that his best friend had been injured. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the naked despair on his companion's face and that tears streamed from his clenched eyes. Tears that looked eerily like blood.

Zack's opponent appeared out of the darkness then, aiming a sword for his defenseless friend and Sephiroth moved forward to defend him. Fenrir flashed out of nowhere, intercepting the attack. Anger gleamed in the deity's eyes as he growled and shoved the knight backwards.

"Stay away from him," Fenrir hissed.

Pain lanced through the former General's thigh in that moment, distracting him from Zack's fate. He growled as his entire leg throbbed, turning to find Balaam sneering maliciously, twisting the trident in the wound. With a snarl, Sephiroth spat a curse at the deity and slashed his Masamune through the air, smacking the trident away.

'Idiot!' Gilgamesh hissed in his mind. 'Concentrate on the battle!' Sephiroth shot him an internal glare as felt the warmth of the blood snaking down his thigh as his leg trembled, but he pushed it away. He couldn't think about that. He needed to defeat Balaam and see to Zack, who was still trembling and weeping on the ground.

Balaam laughed just then, at the determination in his eyes. "All mortals are weak," he mocked.

It was the wrong thing to say, if there had been anything right to begin with.

Sephiroth growled, an unholy rage filling him to the core until he could see nothing but blood staining his vision. His entire body tingled as he felt the first rush of magic, and to his surprise, the Masamune suddenly burst into the greenish flame of an Ultima, though it still felt cool to the touch. He stalked forward, rage blossoming inside of him as Balaam's eyes widened in shock.

"You... but how did you?" Balaam couldn't even finish his question, fear suddenly reflecting in his gleaming eyes.

"This ends now!" Sephiroth growled, his entire body drawn taut with the urge to strike as quickly as possible. Balaam backpedaled from him quickly, terrified at the demonic rage that he was practically exuding from his pores.

His taloned feet turned on a rock and he tumbled to the ground, lying all too painfully onto his wings. They crumpled beneath him, twisting painfully and Balaam grunted. Sephiroth swung his blade, putting the tip of the Masamune directly beneath the deity's chin. Coal eyes looked up at him.

"You wouldn't strike an enemy that's already down," Balaam snarled, trying to reign in his dignity. "Isn't it against some hero's code?"

Sephiroth sneered. "Unlucky for you, I haven't always been a hero." He jerked his arm, slashing through Balaam's neck in one easy swipe. Blood fanned out across the ground, joining the other gore and muck.

The demi-deity gurgled before he started laughing. "You've only killed a pawn, Mr. Anti-Hero." He sneered. "Balaam will destroy you in the ennnnnnd." The last word was dragged out as his body suddenly flattened, not dissolving like the others before acting as if air had been let out of a balloon. His laughter continued to echo around him.

Sephiroth's senses flared, a trickle racing up his spine and he turned to see Raidne standing over the fallen form of his best friend. "Zack!" he cried, whirling towards her. He wasted no time in darting forward and cutting her down, feeling little regret as she dissolved away in a cloud of black ash.

Her smirk was the last thing he saw as the Ultima flame extinguished from his sword and a strange feeling of something leaving him wracked his body. He blinked, as if coming out of a dream, finding that his body was trembling. On the edge of his conscious, he barely registered that Gilgamesh had already destroyed the other knight but he was more concerned about Zack.

He dropped to the ground next to the prostrate SOLDIER, hands trying to shake him awake. "Zack," he urged, realizing belatedly that his own fingers were trembling. "Zack!"

But he didn't even moan.

"What happened?" Gilgamesh asked, dropping to one knee beside him. He laid one hand on the mortal's forehead.

Sephiroth shook his head as he scooped Zack into his arms. "I don't know... but we have to get out of here. Get back to Midgar and--" He paused, noticing that Gilgamesh was shaking his head. "What?" He could feel himself paling by the second, a cold fear gripping his heart at the look in Gilgamesh's eyes.

"It is no longer there," the demi-deity replied grimly. "Midgar has fallen."

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry I had to leave it there, on another cliff-hanger for you, but I promise I'm hard at work on the next chapter. Thanks for reading! 


	65. Fate's Cruel Hand

**Chapter 65: Fate's Cruel Hand**

There was little left within the huge cavern, now that the battle was through. Alice Hojo noted this mentally as she scribbled down more details in the notebook she had balanced in her free hand. She idly pushed up her glasses with the forefinger of one hand before scanning the ground once more, stepping over a dismembered arm with one smooth motion. It twitched in a barely discernable shift, not that she paid it any direct attention.

"Hmm," she murmured, more to herself than to the three large, winged demons that were trailing along boredly behind her. "Everything went exactly as planned, though less died than we had hoped." Her tone was contemplative... cold, just like her late husband had always prided her for.

Her gaze swept over the bloodstained rocks, taking in what very few bodies that remained. Most had turned to dust when they died, like the rest of the monsters in the world. But a few of her late husband's creations, having become more and more human with every experiment, remained behind with their deaths. Twisted, deformed bodies, some burnt to a crisp and others frozen to bits. Thanks to the one she had observed as Fenrir, many were turned to stone and shattered to pieces.

"Interesting."

Her pen scribbled more on the pad, taking down extensive notes. It had been her job to remain behind and watch the execution of the trap from above. Alice had waited until the do-gooders had left, flying away in the Highwind, before letting the demons fly her down. Balaam had wanted her to ascertain the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents, and he seemed to have a keen interest in Vincent Valentine. Alice had only agreed because she was very curious about her stepson, Sephiroth. By all accounts, he should have been dead. Yet, there he was, destroying a good portion of the monsters in Balaam's decoy army.

She had been particularly delighted by the manic look on his face as he took out both Raidne and the Balaam-clone. For a moment, his eyes had even looked elliptical... just like her own boys. It was encouraging. She had started to think at that moment that there might be a chance to win him back after all.

Even if Balaam had lost many of the knights in the battle, and a good portion of his captains, he considered them a worthy sacrifice for a cause after all. It was not as if they were dead. With any luck, they would be able to slip out of whatever prison the damned faithful tried to lock them in and quickly rejoin Balaam once more. The mortals had been too scared to try and kill them... not like in Icicle.

There had been a great victory.

"Will Lord Balaam be pleased?" hissed one of the demons behind her.

She tossed him a look over her shoulder, adjusting her glasses once more. "This is for my benefit, not his. I've already given him his science." With a huff, she turned back around and continued forward, stepping over another twisted body.

Behind her, the three demons exchanged annoyed glances, hating having to serve the human female. Even if they did hold a grudging amount of respect for her. After all, it was Hojo's science that helped create many of their brethren as well as restore Lord Balaam. And with the Apocalypto weapon she had devised, there was little anyone could do to stop them.

Her eyes raked over the battlefield once more, inwardly recalling the battle. Two had been seriously injured, the dark-haired former SOLDIER and the spear-wielding blond. But only the SOLDIER had looked as if he were close to death. Balaam would still have to face more than he expected in the final battle, if the mortals chose to fight back. There were several opponents of note, one especially that she nearly salivated at the chance to get her hands on.

The Wutaiian man wielding two swords in particular had captured her attention. He seemed to have a third sense, so to speak. There were many times she caught him avoiding attacks that not even Sephiroth with his enhanced senses would have noticed. And at one point, she swore she heard him scream in another voice as his eyes shifted color. Very interesting indeed.

He would have been fun to play with. And it was common, documented knowledge of her late husband's that Wutaiians had a greater tolerance for pain. She idly wondered what it would take to force a scream from that pretty mouth...

Alice moved to take another step, when something caught her eye. Or to be more precise, two somethings. Raising a brow, she knelt, her fingers brushing the dirt off of them. "Interesting," she mused yet again as nimble fingernails plucked the two small spheres from the ground. They rolled into her hands with a small clink.

"What is it?" hissed the smallest demon, stepping up beside her.

She smirked, the two spheres rolling about lazily in her palm. "Materia," Alice Hojo answered smugly. Her eyes roamed over them, noting the fractures raced across the once smooth surface. "Or to be more precise, broken materia."

The materia slid into her pocket with one move, for further experimentation, as she turned towards her demon escorts. "Very well, I'm done here." She tapped her notebook to illustrate her point. "I've all the data I need. Take me to Balaam."

They grunted in agreement as she skimmed her notes once more, following them out. Her last thought was that her late husband would have been pleased. Very pleased, indeed.

* * *

The Highwind touched down on the plains just outside of Fort Condor with a smooth landing, despite the fact that the Captain was unconscious and bleeding from several wounds. It was a very subdued and worried crew that exited, heading immediately to the small tunnel that led into the former mako reactor. They looked the worst for wear, that on first glance, it appeared they had only lost the battle rather than gain victory.

But with two of their party unconscious, one barely breathing, it was hardly the time for celebration.

Sephiroth, in particular, was especially grave as his stomach twisted in his abdomen every time he looked down at his barely alive best friend. After Zack had passed out, he didn't even move. Not a twitch. And his chest barely rose up and down, his skin even turning an ashen color that scared Sephiroth. He didn't know if he could lose Zack again... not and it be his fault.

He didn't know if his tenuous hold on sanity would be strong enough to survive.

The door to the tunnel burst open at that moment and a man came hurrying out, looking very harried with his grey hair tousled on his head. He bustled towards them before skidding to a stop in front of Sephiroth, attempting a clumsy bow that really didn't suit him. The former General appraised him for all of a second before coming to the conclusion that this man was no threat and allowed himself to relax.

He paused in his walking and behind him, the others did as well, though they crowded around to hear the conversation.

"Umm, Sephiroth, sir," the man began to say in a mildly stuttered tone as he twisted a hat around in his nervous fingers. "Or should I call you General? Was that impolite of me? They didn't say--"

The formerly silver-haired man shook his head. "Sephiroth is fine. And you are?"

The man nodded. "Neme. I am the one in charge of this establishment. The others of your party are here as well, resting and healing." His eyes quickly evaluated the situation, noting the unconscious men and the wounded bodies of their fellows. It appeared to have been a difficult battle and inwardly, he gulped in fear. Would they survive this catastrophe? Or was it finally Gaia's time to explode?

It was a frightening thought.

"Healing?" Sephiroth repeated, not so much confused, as he was concerned. With the knowledge that Midgar had been destroyed, he had assumed something had happened, but would have thought they would have gotten out in time to avoid any battles. They were prepared to run if necessary, Sephiroth had seen to that before leaving.

Neme nodded, his face grave as he began wringing his fingers together again. "Yes. It appears they sustained heavy damage in their battles. Mr. Tuesti has not regained consciousness since being wounded and we've been unable to--"

"What?" Reno pushed his way to the front of the crowd, shoving Nanaki aside with little ceremony as all blood drained from his face. He stalked forward and grabbed Neme, jerking the innocent man by his lapels. "What did you say about Reeve?" he snarled.

Neme blinked owlishly, slightly frightened by the ash-stained and blood-spattered face of the redhead. "He's in the infirmary," the man choked out. "We've... been doing the best we can but nothing seems to be working."

Reno's jaw worked soundlessly, his heart dropping into his stomach as fear pierced his heart. He stared at the older man for all of a moment before violently releasing him and shoving past, taking off at a dead run for the tunnels and the interior of Fort Condor. Sephiroth didn't even try to stop him, knowing that the man was probably scared half out of his wits. Left behind, Neme gulped loudly and rubbed a hand over his chest, watching Reno's departure with wide eyes.

"And the others?" Nanaki asked, his anxious voice rising above the crowd as he pushed his way through. If Reeve, who was supposed to be nowhere near to battle was hurt, he feared for the others. Reeve was connected to one of the strongest anima and the fact that he had been injured was more than worrisome... it was terrifying.

The older man shook his head. "Ms. Kisaragi has responded well to the treatment and should be up in a few days and--" But he couldn't finish his statement before a strangled noise escaped the demi-human's mouth.

Golden eyes darkened in worry. "K--Kisaragi?" he repeated, voice barely above a whisper. "You... you mean Yuffie?" One of his hands clenched at his side as his heart thundered loudly in his chest. He desperately hoped that he had heard wrong, that he had been mistaken even if he knew it was only an irrational hope at best.

But he simply couldn't stand it if he was going to be forced to be alone all over again. Bugenhagen was gone, there was no one left for him. Yuffie couldn't be hurt, she simply _couldn't._ But his hope faltered and sputtered a broken death as Neme nodded slowly, an apologetic look to his eyes.

Sucking in a horrified breath, his eyes widened impossibly large, Nanaki reacted much the same as Reno. He didn't even spare the others a glance as he took off, running past Neme and nearly knocking other two more men that were emerging from the Fort Condor tunnel. He wouldn't be able to relax until he could see with own eyes that Yuffie was unharmed. He couldn't bear to lose his best friend.

Sephiroth's mossy eyes watched the exit of the two men with a feeling of dread quivering in his belly. His hands unconsciously tightened around Zack in his arms and he could hear the sounds of the others shifting behind him, worry echoing loudly in their chests. His gaze shifted back to Neme, a question on the tip of his tongue.

"What about Cloud?" he demanded a bit more rudely than he intended. His words came out harsh and biting, tainted with trepidation that the strange feeling that had attacked him during the battle had some other meaning.

Neme blinked, his face pinched with confusion as he tilted his head to the side. His hands began to nervously twist the hat again, fingers pinching and pulling at the fabric. "No one is here by that name," he answered slowly, eyes darting from the former General to the other men standing behind him, wondering if this 'Cloud' was someone important to one of them as well.

Unconsciously, Sephiroth took a step backwards, the words striking him hard from all directions. "... What?"

"What do you mean Cloud's not here?" Vincent asked, his question echoing Sephiroth's as he moved to stand next to the former General, Cid clutched desperately in his hold. Bloodied rags were wrapped around the pilot's still seeping wounds and his face was ashen, but he looked significantly more alive than Zack, with his chest rising and falling in steadying movements.

Neme shook his head. "The others made no mention of a Cloud when they came here. But with everything so frantic... I could have missed him in the confusion." He shifted his attention to one of the men standing at his shoulder. "Garig, go check, please?"

The dark-headed burly man nodded and turned, heading back into Fort Condor with quick movements as Neme returned his attention to Sephiroth and the others. "I see that many of you are injured. We will help you get them to the infirmary," the older man suggested, waving the other two behind him forward.

Sephiroth's hands tightened around Zack's body as one approached, hands held out as if to offer help in carrying him. "No," the former General denied, shaking his head firmly. "He is my burden. Just... lead me somewhere I can take him."

The pale eyed man nodded. "Very well sir." His gaze flickered to the others. "The injured can come with me. Those seeking rest can follow after Karin," he explained, gesturing to his companion.

"Why are you helping us?" Tseng asked, slightly concerned as he somewhat limped forward. With Reno gone, he had started to lean on Archer. He had taken a slash to the thigh and while it wasn't life threatening, some of the pain still lingered from the vague attempt at healing it. He was certain he would be back to his prime tomorrow, however.

The look on Neme's face was grim. "We may not really know what's going on, but I do remember many of those that came here and aided us. We always repay our debts." For a moment, his tone was firm and determined, quite different from the nervous way he had been acting before. He turned away from them, gesturing towards the somewhat darkened tunnel. "Now, if you would come along please, we will help tend to the wounded."

Sephiroth nodded, already hurrying to follow the man as the others started after him. The demi-deities, he noticed somewhat belatedly, had disappeared not long after the battle had ended. But frantic with concern and distracted with disgust for himself for walking into a trap, he hadn't put much thought into the matter. And now wasn't the time to be worrying about such inconsequential things either. Not with Zack breathing shallowly in his arms and Vincent's hurried steps, equally concerned for his lover, echoing behind him.

* * *

Reno burst into the infirmary with little ceremony, slightly out of breath from his haphazard run through the corridors of Fort Condor. He had demanded directions from the first person he grabbed and the woman, with a slightly scared look on her face, had babbled them out before scurrying away. It might have had something to do with the manic look in his eyes and the blood that still dotted his clothing. But Reno didn't care for formalities or politeness, not when he had visions of his injured lover flashing in his head.

His heart thudded so loudly in his chest that it echoed in his ears and he could scarcely hear anything over the pounding of his body. His breathing was harsh and echoing as he was filled with a cold, consuming terror. Faced with the type of life he lived, his profession, he had always been well acquainted with death. And there was a certain measure of realization that it could come swiftly and without warning. But no matter of preparation or understanding could have made it any easier to bear.

He simply couldn't lose Reeve. It would be like a part of himself dying, as sappy as that sounded and his fear had driven him forward, running up stairs as opposed to waiting for slow and creaking lifts. The moment he careened into the infirmary, nearly knocking over a nurse and her tray of syringes in his haste, he had immediately scanned the beds, mostly empty. He had eyes only for Reeve, however and he was verging on panic when he couldn't see the other man anywhere.

"Reeve!" he hollered, despite the fact that his lover probably couldn't hear him. All rational thought had left his mind as he stalked forward, gaze sweeping over every bed. "Ree--"

A hand settled on his arm and he whirled in anger, only to find himself looking up into saddened, ancient eyes. He recognized their owner in an instant. Seiryu, Reeve's anima, was looking down at him with something akin to pity. Anger blossomed inside of Reno as he glared at the demi-deity.

"This is an infirmary, wild one," Seiryu informed him sharply. "Your hollering will not ease the rest of any of these patients."

Reno gritted his teeth. "I don't give a fuck about the others. Where's Reeve?"

The older male released a sigh, giving off an insufferable tone as his gaze flickered to the other side of the room, cordoned off from the rest of it by a white sheet. Reno followed his line of sight and without another word, charged past him into the enclosed space. He skidded to a stop the moment he laid eyes on the still form of his lover, lying pale and wan within the hospital bed.

His heart stopped in his chest as his knees wobbled and he felt every bit of air drain from his lungs. Wires and machines, a soft beeping in the background, he barely noticed these things. And everywhere he looked Reeve was connected to them, dark eyelashes a sharp contrast to his pale cheeks, as he lay motionless. White bandages peeked around the edges of the hospital clothing and blankets. He only faintly heard the curtain rustle behind him as Seiryu stepped into the enclosure as well.

"By Kami," Reno stammered, feeling light-headed from the lack of air. He stumbled forward on shaky legs, cautiously approaching the bed for fear of disturbing any of the wires that crisscrossed his lover's body. He could already feel it, the sob welling up in his throat, as he reached out with a trembling, brushing the back of his fingers over Reeve's cheek. He was startled by how cool Reeve's skin felt.

His knees buckled and he dropped into the chair at the side of the bed, his free hand reaching to take Reeve's limp fingers into his hold. There was no response from his lover and Reeve's name echoed from his lips, a faint whisper. "What happened?" he asked, speaking to Seiryu in a strangled tone. "Why was he...? He shouldn't have been?" Reno shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Damn stubborn bastard..."

"Icicle was attacked," Seiryu said softly, slowly beginning to explain. "Reeve refused to stand idly by."

Reno's jaw set as his fingers rubbed across Reeve's hand, his thumb grazing over the familiar gold ring that represented their commitment to each other. "And you let him," he replied coldly. "You let him fight."

The demi-deity was incredibly patient, recognizing the mortal's concern and in truth, feeling much the same for his animus. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was partly to blame for Reeve's condition since he had been the one to suggest the joining. He sighed heavily.

"I am not one to tell an adult what he can and cannot do," Seiryu replied. "You know him better than anyone. He would not leave them to their fate."

The Turk sucked in a deep, shaky breath. "What happened?" he repeated, slower this time, as if every word was difficult to speak. "How did he get like this? Why won't he wake up?"

"It is not something that any materia can cure," the demi-deity explained, taking a step towards the other side of the bed. His aged gaze swept over the motionless form of his anima. "It is damage to the mind caused by the forced breaking of a bond."

Aquamarine eyes shot towards the older male accusingly. "Quit talking shit and explain something!" he snapped, unconsciously gripping his lover's hands tighter. He could feel his body trembling violently and tried to rein in his emotions, but they were escaping far too quickly than he could handle. "What bond?"

Seiryu's gaze was steady and unyielding despite the subtle, condemning darkening of Reno's features. "Only the eldest of us are capable of it, but when bonded to a mortal, we can merge our bodies to form one being, one entity which is stronger combined then fighting together but separate." He paused, letting his explanation sink in as he gingerly pressed his palm to Reeve's forehead. A stab of fear shot through him at the clamminess to the executive's skin. It did not bode well.

"We employed this method in order to fight, but during the battle, we were attacked from behind and I was forcefully ejected out of the bond." Seiryu shook his head. "It is not something that can simply be recovered from or even healed. There is nothing more we can do but wait for Reeve to pull through on his own. If his will to live is strong enough."

"Bullshit!" Reno snarled, rising to his feet in a violent movement. He was hurting, every piece of himself crying out with grief. Even if Reeve wasn't dead, he looked so damned near close that the shadow of death seemed to cling to him, just waiting for the moment to strike. He was hurt, he was unconscious, and Reno was helpless in the face of those glaring facts.

And yet, there was no outlet, no place for him to ease the aching inside of him. He was angry with Reeve, for being so foolish, for fighting when Reno had told him of his importance on Gaia... for being such a damn, stubborn _hero_. The pain that was welling up inside of him, threatening to spill from his eyes, turned into anger and unerringly, it was directed towards the one source that was providing answers.

"This is your fault!" The Turk snarled, pointing sharply at the demi-deity. "You broke him so you'd better damn well fix him!" He sliced a hand through the air. "This stupid fuckin' war is all about you damn deities and your problems and now..." He jerked his hand, gesturing violently towards his lover. "Now he's been dragged into it and look at him. LOOK at him!"

Emerald eyes flashed as irritation began to grow inside of the older male. "I have seen him, wild one," Seiryu snapped as he began to move around the side of the bed, not caring to argue over Reeve's unconscious form. "I know what has happened and I can feel his pain. We did not start this war and we did not ask for this pain!"

Reno pursed his lips, breathing haggardly as his anger was fueled by the demi-deity's words. "What do you know of pain?" he demanded. "My lover, my _life_, might never wake up and you expect me to care how you feel?"

"We lost one of our own! Don't belittle my actions when you know nothing about what happened!" Seiryu growled. "It is a war, Reno. Sacrifices are expected to be made."

"That's just fuckin' typical," Reno shot back, stepping closer to the other man as he voice dropped until it was colder than ice. "You are a god so you think you can do whatever the hell you want with whoever the hell you want."

"He made his choice. Reeve knew what he was doing before he even stepped off that helicopter."

It was the last straw. What little restraint Reno had left broke in that moment and a cry that was a mixture of anger and despair escaped from his mouth as he grabbed onto the front of the demi-deity's robes. He pushed Seiryu violently away from Reeve, his face twisted up with a flurry of emotions that he couldn't even begin to describe as tears prickled hotly at the back of his eyes.

"Get out!" he shouted, not caring how loud his voice had risen or how crazed he might have seemed. "Just fuckin' get out, you bastard. You did this to him!" He continued shoving the older man, blinded by his grief and rage.

Seiryu spluttered, perfectly capable of defending himself, but speechless in the face of the mortal's pain. He could have easily broken the man's hold, or muttered some type of spell to silence him, but he couldn't deny that Reno spoke an element of truth. That unsettling feeling of guilt waged heavily inside of him and he couldn't bring himself to quiet Reno, instead enduring the blame and the anger being directed his way.

Until hands grabbed onto Reno and yanked him away, restraining the Turk with a hold that was much too strong for the redhead to break. "Stop it," Nanaki hissed, locking his elbows around Reno's arms as the man struggled and cursed in his hold. "You aren't the only one. Someone I care about is hurt, too," he intoned sharply, his maturity belying his age.

"And whose fault is that?" Reno spat, glaring harshly at Seiryu with all the poison he could muster. "His, too?"

Nanaki sighed, tightening his hold. "It is no one's save fate's cruel hand. Balaam is the one who started this war, Reno. Remember that."

He was startlingly aware of how violently the Turk was trembling in his hold. Reno was hanging on by a very thin thread and it was several minutes before he completely deflated in Nanaki's arms, his eyes trained solely on the floor. The demi-human sighed and looked towards Seiryu, golden eyes quick to catch the slightly shell-shocked expression on the dragon's face.

Seiryu shook his head, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "I'm going to return to Elysium for some research. With any luck, I will come across the cure to Reeve's ailment," he uttered softly before turning his gaze towards the demi-human and the Turk he held in his arms, a flash of pity and regret staining his emerald orbs.

"I am sorry," he murmured before promptly disappearing in a shower of sparkles.

A moment of silence filled the infirmary, broken only by the sound of a patient coughing somewhere beyond the curtain. Feeling it was safe, Nanaki released Reno and the Turk just stood there numbly, still staring at the floor. His hands were still clenched at his side and he seemed to be holding himself together with great effort.

"This is not the time for blame," Nanaki admonished softly. "Right now, Reeve needs you, not your anger."

Reno didn't answer as golden eyes sent him a sympathetic look. Sighing, Nanaki shook his head, when suddenly his keen hearing picked up something.

"Nan... aki..." It was his name, called out in a weak but very familiar voice.

His heart thundered loudly at the sound and he turned towards the curtain, throwing it open to have his gaze land on the bed just on the other side of Reeve's. Bloodshot brown eyes greeted him, along with a tired smile on the face of a very much wounded, but very much _alive _Yuffie Kisaragi. He had seen her briefly earlier, but raised voices from Seiryu and Reno had drawn his attention away.

On the sight of her conscious, however, Nanaki could practically feel his tail wiggle with glee. "Yuffie!" he exclaimed. "You're awake!" He hurried out of Reeve's semi-private quarters, swiftly closing the curtain behind him and leaving Reno to his thoughts. The Turk had sat back down at Reeve's bedside and was currently tenderly brushing hair out of his lover's face, looking very much the defeated man.

The ninja managed a weak smile as Nanaki plopped down on the side of her bed. She lifted one of her hands feebly and patted his thigh. "We got our asses kicked," she rasped, a scrawny laughter escaping her, only to be choked off by an encroaching cough.

He looked to her in concern, raking his gaze over her body practically swathed in bandages. "You weren't supposed to be fighting anyways."

She rolled her eyes. "Spare me the lecture, I don't really need it right now."

Nanaki nodded, reaching forward to gingery touch the bandage across her forehead, nearly hiding her dark hair completely. "I should have been there," he said softly. "I could have stayed behind and--"

"--and then you would have been hurt, too," she finished for him, giving him a baleful look. "We didn't do like Sephiroth told us. He _warned_ us. Besides, you were there... sorta."

He cocked his head to the side. "Sorta?"

She smiled, her free hand moving to her throat where her fingers brushed across the necklace he had given her. "You've used this thing so much that I think a bit of you merged with it."

Reddish brows rose in interest. "Really?" he asked, before suddenly changing the subject. "What happened, Yufs?"

Her gaze slid away from him as she sighed. "Icicle was attacked and Reeve was goin' so..." She shrugged, shooting him an apologetic look. "I wanted to fight and Sephiroth said I couldn't come... It was stupid, I know." She frowned, brown eyes darkening as she began to recall the battle. "Reeve and I were hurt but Elena... Raijin's dead, 'Aki. And I don't mean he just went back to Elysium. Dead as in... he no longer exists."

Golden eyes widened impossibly large. "What?" he asked, stunned. Thanks to the explanation provided at the Lost Grounds, he knew how difficult it was to kill a demi-deity and the destruction it could cause.

"I don't know much and Elena's not really talking. She's been depressed since it happened. You'll have to ask one of the other anima to explain..." Yuffie hacked again, her body wracking with the force of the cough. A flash of pain crossed her face when her bruised ribs were made to endure the shudders.

With a loss for what to do, Nanaki soothed down wayward strands of dark hair with his fingers, wishing he had something to ease her pain for her. She gave him a grateful smile before it dissolved into coughs again. Concerned, his turned his head to call a nurse or something, but the door to the infirmary burst open in that moment. Sephiroth entered, carrying Zack, followed by Vincent and Cid. Nanaki could only assume that the others had gone somewhere to get some rest.

Vincent's arms were beginning to sag underneath his lover's weight. It felt wrong to say so, but he was somewhat glad Cid had lost that weight. As it was, with his decreased strength and lithe form, it was becoming increasingly harder to carry the man. He stumbled towards the nearest bed, ignoring the strange looks other patients were giving him. Warmth splashed onto his fingers and he cursed under his breath when he realized the wound on Cid's shoulder had opened once more.

He gingerly dropped Cid onto the bed, half-wishing that he hadn't urged Archer to go get some rest. The engineer had been equally worried about Cid, concern brimming in his amethyst eyes and he had hesitated before nodding curtly. Still, Vincent could have used the second pair of hands as his own slightly shaking fingers worked to pull off Cid's sticky clothing.

He grimaced at the blood, his stomach wrenching at the ashen coloring of Cid's normally tanned face. Trying not to disturb the carefully bound shoulder, a wound that would not heal no matter what materia or potion they applied, he gradually worked the pilot's shirt off of his body, dropping it down to the floor with little ceremony.

Cid stirred, a small moan echoing in his throat as his head tilted to the side. Vincent's hands immediately paused as he raised his gaze, watching sky blue eyes flutter open, hazed over with pain.

"Vin?" the blond croaked, his voice breaking on the last syllable.

The gunman nodded, swallowing thickly. "Don't try to speak... just be quiet," he murmured, something inside of him breaking at the weak timbre to his lover's voice.

Cid shook his head, a barely noticeable movement. "I... remember now."

"I said, don't try to talk," Vincent reprimanded.

The pilot's hand twitched as he managed to lift it a few scant inches off the bed and touch Vincent's arm, instantly grabbing his attention. "In the crater... Chaos called Diablos... the Grav... ity beast," he stuttered feebly before sucking in a shaky breath. "I'm... c-cold Vin."

Vincent's heart dropped into his stomach as he looked up, frantically trying to locate a nurse or a doctor or someone who knew more about medicine then his own paltry experience. Being cold generally wasn't a good sign in any sort of medical situation and to his horror; Cid chose that moment to slip back into unconsciousness, his hand falling limp from Vincent's arm. A chill feeling of terror swept through him as blood began to sluggishly pump through his lover's wounds again, staining the pristine white of the covers beneath Cid.

And yet, the pilot's words echoed in his mind. Gravity beast? It sounded all too similar to a story his mother had once read to him. It was an old folk tale about the winged demon brothers who fell in love with the same human woman. In the end, all three of them died. But most importantly, the name of the Gravity brother was Baal.

'Is that your name, Diablos?' he asked inwardly, hands busily working to remove Cid's pants. The wound on Cid's leg needed to be treated as well. 'Baal?'

"Yes," came the deep tone, echoing from behind him. Vincent jumped in surprise, looking over his shoulder to see a plum-eyed male standing there, dark-hair much like his own cresting down in an ebony wave. Webbed wings stretched out behind the male and the gunman knew with certainty that this was Baal.

He allowed himself all of a second to stare before returning his attentions to Cid. "Wonderful," he muttered under his breath sarcastically, shaking his head. "Come on, Cid... don't die on me now."

Suddenly, bodies were shoving past Vincent, taking over what he was doing. Two men in white doctor's coats that reminded him all too eerily of Hojo tried to push him aside, calling out nonsense medical jargon that Vincent didn't understand as they started examining his lover. He refused to budge, however, unwilling to leave them in their hands alone when a pair of clawed hands gripped his shoulders and yanked him out of the doctors' way.

The gunman reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled aside, staring down numbly at the blood dotting his fingers when he ended up being shoved near the door. He could barely see Cid beyond the press of bodies, but judging by the frantic rush of their movements at least something was being done.

He wondered why he didn't feel in the least bit assured.

"I cannot believe that Byakko would turn like this," Baal murmured, finally releasing Vincent as he moved to stand beside the gunman. Dark purple eyes watched the hurried movements of the medical staff. "Especially towards his other."

Grey eyes widened. "What?" he demanded, whirling towards the winged deity.

Baal nodded slowly. "Byakko was Cid's anima. He was actually one of our more gentler demi-gods." He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I regret being unable to help you during the battle, but after a thousand years, I am still placed under more restriction than the others."

The ex-Turk's brow furrowed in confusion, prompting him to question Baal's enigmatic statement when he was distracted and the words lost. Sephiroth was promptly shoved in their direction by two of the staff, who were pleading with him to let them handle it. His body was shaking violently, Vincent noticed, and those mossy eyes were shadowed with worry... and guilt. Even Sephiroth's struggle was faintly futile, as if he were being contrary because he lacked knowing what else to do.

Almost like a child. It wasn't until that moment that Vincent truly understood just how off from humanity Hojo had made him.

Vincent momentarily pushed aside his own worry, though it lingered on the back of his mind. "Sephiroth," he stated sharply, wincing when his tone came out sounding far more parent-like then he had intended. "Let them do their job."

The former General's shoulders sagged as he shook his head, standing with his back to Vincent and staring resolutely at the form of his best friend, completely surrounded by medical personnel. "I don't like doctors," he mumbled.

Frankly, the gunman could sympathize. Just staring at all the white lab coats was giving him the shivers. "What happened?" he asked abruptly. Everything had been so frantic after the end of the battle and in the chaos, no one really quite knew anything of what had happened. Just that all of the monsters had been destroyed, most of the demi-deities defeated, and that it was quite clear they had been involved in some type of trap.

After all, Vincent knew with certainty that Balaam was still out there somewhere. The faint tugging of the last vestiges of power that resided within him was all the proof he needed.

Sephiroth sighed, scraping a hand through his hair as he turned towards the older man, not even raising a brow at the unfamiliar winged deity standing beside him. "I don't know," he admitted. "We were fighting and then he was crying and..." He let out an aggravated breath, hating how incoherent his words were coming. "All I know is that something was off about the whole thing."

"I have my suspicions," Baal interjected. "But they must be confirmed with the others first. There were those fighting... that should not have been." His eyes flickered to Vincent. "I will return as soon as I can."

Vincent nodded, only half-listening to the deity as the sound of doctors calmly barking out orders and the beeping of monitoring machines echoed on his subconscious. Baal blinked out of existence seconds later, presumably to return to Elysium. "This is a disaster," the gunman muttered under his breath, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead in an aggravated motion.

"Sephy!" A child's voice pierced the air, accompanied by the sound of small feet running across the floor seconds before Denzel appeared in the doorway. The child took one look at the surprised former General before promptly throwing himself at the older male, wrapping his small arms around Sephiroth's waist and ignoring the bloodstains already seeped into the dark fabric.

Tears leaked from saddened brown eyes as Denzel began to sob. "You're... still... here... Cloud..." The boy sniffled, making very little sense to the two older males.

Sephiroth blinked in confusion, unsure what to do as he laid an uncertain hand on the boy's head and gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. Yet, something in Denzel's stammered and incoherent babble struck a chord inside of him. It was the same strange feeling that had attacked him the chest only seconds before Zack had gotten injured.

"What about Cloud?" Vincent asked, his voice coming out far sharper than he had intended.

"He's dead." Both Sephiroth and Vincent looked up at the deep and unexpected voice, turning to find Barret standing in the hallway just outside the infirmary. Marlene was gripping tightly to his flesh hand and tear tracks stained her usually cheerful expression. "He fuckin' took out two of the bastards and exploded Midgar."

Both men paled at Barret's words as Sephiroth shook his head, hand unintentionally pressing harder against Denzel's shoulder. "No. He... no." The former General took in a breath, unable to register the validity of the gunarmed man's words. "Cloud cannot have died."

"He did," Barret stated flatly, dark brown eyes narrowing slightly. "So now our plan's failed...everything failed." His gaze flickered past them to the infirmary, catching sight of the doctors rushing frantically about. "And half our people's dead or hurt."

His words hung heavy on the frantic air as Vincent tried to digest the information. It simply would not settle within him. It seemed impossible, for their leader to be gone. Cloud was always the strong one, with more luck than the average person. A heavy feeling settled in the gunman's chest. He and Cloud might not have been particularly close but the blond was still his friend and above all... he had been Vincent's leader. With Cid close to death, the news was not easy to accept.

The ex-Turk lowered his head, staring at the floor. "How's Aeris?" he asked, voice quiet and solemn.

Barret sighed as his daughter pressed close to him, in a desperate need for comfort or some sort of assurance that it would all be okay. "She's holdin' up. Tryin' ta be stronger than she needs to be and won't let none of us comfort her." His eyes fell down to his daughter, filling immediately with concern. "She ain't cried but once... other than that..." His words trailed off.

"I just," Sephiroth began, his statement halting as his brow furrowed in frustration. It was different for him this time. He knew these soldiers under his command, he knew their faces and their names. He couldn't just _dismiss_ them as the acceptable loss for any war like he had done in the past. His mind whirled with the events, leaving him teetering on the edge of control.

"What're we gonna do now, Mr. Leader?" Barret interjected, an accusing note to his voice. He shifted his position, turning a critical stare onto the former General. "Judgin' from all the blood I'd say we lost the battle."

Sephiroth pinched his nose, eyes closed as he struggled to form a coherent thought. He knew that he needed to pull himself together, but his overly strong senses couldn't shake the acrid scent of far too much blood, his mind couldn't stop replaying the look on Zack's face or the deathly pallor to his best friend's skin. He had never expected to have to cope with something like this. Hojo had done his best to make him a being without feelings, without _care_, and now faced with all these emotions, he was barely clinging to some vague sort of sanity. And he didn't have Zack there to answer the questions.

"We didn't lose," cut in another voice as soft footfalls approached them. "It was a trap," Nanaki continued, cutting his eyes disapprovingly at Barret. "However, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss this."

Reluctantly, Barret had to concede his point.

"Very well," Sephiroth agreed, dredging up some sort of composure from a place he hadn't even known existed inside of him. "We need to get those capable of doing so together then. Something tells me that Balaam is not going to wait for us to mourn our losses before striking again."

The former AVALANCHE leader frowned. "I'll go tell e'erone then," he offered, with evident reluctance. He still held reservations about Sephiroth, especially considering the recent events. "Neme will set up sumthin'," he finished, kneeling slightly to pick up his adopted daughter and swing her into his arms. She buried her face in his neck and clung tightly.

Sephiroth nodded. "You do that."

Brown eyes flickered to Vincent and Nanaki briefly before the gunarm turned on his heels and departed, leaving a still sobbing Denzel pressed tightly to Sephiroth, soaking his shirt. The former General sighed, feeling a sudden and strange urge to go bang his head against a wall. Vincent crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the floor, an uneasy silence settling between them.

Until Denzel sniffled, his fingers grasping tightly to the bloodstained shirt he had buried his face in. "You came back," he sobbed.

Sephiroth nodded, looking down at the small child. "I did," he answered as simply as possible. He still did not understand why the boy had attached himself so firmly to him, especially considering he knew absolutely nothing about children.

He felt more warm tears trickle onto his skin through his soaked shirt as Denzel pressed closer, seeming to Sephiroth as if he was trying to push through the older man. "Cloud didn't tho'. It's my fault, too."

Grey eyes, still with a faint taint of mako green, widened in surprise. "What?" he exclaimed. "How is it your fault?"

"He saved me," Denzel cried. "I got left behind and he came'n got me."

At a loss for words, Sephiroth looked to Vincent for help. Not that the gunman knew any more about children than he did but he felt completely helpless in the face of Denzel's guilt. The boy was simply too small to be thinking in those terms and Sephiroth had no idea how to make him understand. His childhood had been brief at best, practically non-existent. He didn't know anything about the mentality of children.

But Vincent had no advice to offer the former General. He looked past him completely, a strange expression fluttering across his face when he saw that the doctors had finally left Cid alone and had joined the others across the room, working on Zack who didn't seem to be improving. A slight flutter of hope eased the tightness in his chest and without another word, the gunman hurried back to his lover's side, leaving Sephiroth to handle the sobbing child.

"Some help you are," Sephiroth muttered under his breath before returning his attention to Denzel. Heaving a sigh, he lowered himself to one knee, gently detaching the clinging fingers from his shirt. From this level, he was able to see eye-to-eye with the boy, looking directly into red-rimmed brown eyes and tear-stained cheeks. His hands settled on the boy's shoulders.

It reminded him all too much of his own childhood. He used to hate looking into the mirror.

"It is not your fault," he said gently, with hopes of assuring the boy. When Denzel shot him a disbelieving look that was far too _old_ for the boy to be so _young_, Sephiroth sighed and tried again. "Cloud... Cloud chose to do what he chose to do and nothing you could have said or done would have changed his mind."

A small hand came up, touching the metal tags that hung around Denzel's neck. "I left 'em behind," he whispered, hanging his head. "An' I went back an' Cloud had ta come after me." His breath hitched just slightly and Sephiroth felt something inside of him break at the tears trickling down Denzel's face.

What was it about children that made a person want to hunt down evil just to see them smile again?

Unconsciously, Sephiroth's fingers tightened on Denzel's shoulders as he exhaled slowly. "It's all right," he attempted to assure, feeling as if his words were just as hollow as they sounded. "No one blames you, Denzel."

Denzel nodded and sniffled, wiping the back of his hand across his runny nose as all children were wont to do. The former General took a deep breath, hoping he had said something at least close to the right words.

"I am certain of it," Nanaki added in, his voice startling Sephiroth enough to make him jump slightly. He had nearly forgotten that the demi-human was standing there. "So don't worry," Nanaki finished before stepping away quietly, moving back to Yuffie's side where she greeted him with a warm smile.

Someone cleared his or her throat just then. "Uh... sir?" Sephiroth looked up, blinking when he saw a doctor standing over them. There was a grim expression to the rather young-looking man's face as he discreetly waited for Sephiroth's attention. A surge of dread settled in the former ShinRa's belly.

"Zack?"

The man nodded, idly smoothing down the front of his white coat in a nervous gesture. "We've managed to stabilize his condition, sir, as well as stop the bleeding. It doesn't appear to be a serious wound." He paused, shifting to the other foot. "But we can't understand why he won't regain consciousness. If you do not mind my asking, what exactly happened?"

Sephiroth frowned as he rose to his feet. "I don't know. I turned around and..." His words trailed off as he raked a hand across his forehead, brushing strands of dyed hair out of his face. Denzel grabbed his free hand, clinging tightly to it as he registered the frustration and concern on his adoptive father's face.

The former General forced himself to take a deep breath, attempting to latch onto his usual composure, the same impassive placidity that he had relied on for all those years. But he couldn't because his body shook and his nerves were ripped to shreds. Zack had been the one to tear down his boundaries, carefully crafted all those years ago and now _Zack _was lying over there on the bed because of Sephiroth's own failed plan. How could he expect to know what to do when Zack had been the one to teach him everything? What was he supposed to now?

What would he do if he lost him?

A great fear clenched Sephiroth's heart and he swallowed thickly, an unexpected bout of dizziness causing him to sway on his feet. He stumbled a step forward, before quickly managing to catch himself.

"Sir?" The doctor's voice was quizzical. "Are you well?"

Sephiroth waved him off with a dismissive flip of his free hand. "I'm fine," he insisted, despite the fatigue that was starting to claw at him.

He didn't know what else to do but cling to what he already knew. He was leader and they were looking to him to know what to do, to decide where to go from there. He had to have all the answers and all the assurances. He had to be strong for them. So no matter how much he wanted to be like the Turk and sit by Zack's side pretending he had the skills to make him all right, Sephiroth knew he couldn't.

The physician regarded him strangely, with inquisitive pale eyes, but continued nonetheless. "We will continue to monitor your companion, using low-level Cure every so often to ensure he is healing properly. Outside of that, there is nothing more we can do."

Sephiroth nodded. "I appreciate the help nevertheless," he murmured, wishing that there was more he could do. It seemed unfair that no matter how strong he was, he simply couldn't will his friend into healing faster or into understanding what had happened.

A few short raps on the doorframe alerted him to the presence of someone standing just in the hall. The doctor bowed and turned back into the infirmary, leaving Sephiroth free to turn and acknowledge the new visitor. It was Rude.

"Barret and Neme have arranged a conference room," the bald man informed him.

"How many can we actually expect to make it?" asked Vincent, suddenly appearing just behind the former General.

Rude shook his head. "Not as many as we would all like." He shifted and gestured to his right. "Down the hallway, third door on the left. Once I find Elena, I'll join you." Without waiting for a dismissal, the bald Turk turned on his heels and disappeared down the hall.

Grey eyes regarded Sephiroth with a look the former General wasn't sure how he was supposed to decipher. "Cid's going to be sleeping for the next four hours, at least," he explained. "I'll come along."

"And I," Nanaki added, sidling up along the gunman's other side. His gaze flickered to the curtained area just beyond Yuffie's bed. "However, Reno I would not recommend bothering right now. He's not exactly... stable."

Sephiroth sighed. "It's to be expected." He turned away from them for a brief moment, his eyes immediately falling on the form of his best friend, lying limply on the infirmary bed. The childish urge to flee from everything rose up in him so strongly that he had to gulp it down and quickly turn away, heading quickly out of the hallway and inadvertently dragging Denzel with him. The boy refused to release him as Vincent and Nanaki fell into step behind him.

Yet, no matter how far he walked from the infirmary, the smell of spilt blood and the tint of quickly cast restorative spells would not leave his nose.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading and sorry for the delay. I was without internet for a week, a very _long_ week. Reviews are welcome and appreciated! I've a bit of worry that I'm straying from my usual quality.


	66. Sephiroth's Heel

**Chapter 66: Sephiroth's Heel**

The air in Elysium was anxious and filled with foreboding. For every deity that had returned unintended and promptly sent to await his or her judgment, the tension rose up a notch… until it was so stifling that Erebus felt he was choking on it. It was especially worse where he stood at the present moment, nervously shifting from foot to foot as he sought out the forgiveness of his best friend. Standing in her father's garden, knowing that all the flowers in the world wouldn't suffice at this moment, he hated himself for seeing the hurt on her face.

She valiantly tried to hide it, of course, which only made it worse. It was rare that she ever sought to hide anything from him. Unbeknownst to her, since she refused to even look at him when he sought her out, his shoulders sagged as regret suffused his entire being. He should not have been so harsh.

Erebus cleared his throat, a sound that was all too noisy in the calm and relaxing atmosphere of the garden.

"Asclepius--"

Her response was quick and bitter, cutting off anything else he might have said. "I do not want to talk to you right now, Erebus," she stated coldly, keeping her back to him as her fingers traced the outlines of one of her favorite flowers. Even her normally bouncy, mint green curls seemed subdued and listless. He had only himself to blame.

Erebus sighed, resisting the urge to hang his head. "I am sorry."

"I thought I said I wasn't talking to you right now."

He flinched, feeling his face flush. "You're acting--"

"What?" she demanded, suddenly whirling around as she unintentionally crushed the defenseless bloom in her grasp. "Like a child? Like a girl? Like a mortal? Tell me, Erebus, which one you think I am because somewhere you have gotten confused." Her tone was sharp, but beneath it all, he detected the thin line of hurt and disappointment.

His shoulders sagged further as he raked a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he seemed to have picked up from being around the mortals far too much. "You misunderstand. I only meant to--"

Garnet eyes flashed. "You dismissed me," Asclepius hissed angrily, tiny hands clenching into fists at her side, as though she was struggling to refrain from striking him. "You said, in no uncertain terms, where you believe I belonged."

"I was right!" he defended, beginning to grow a little irritated himself. "You are not a warrior. Even you must recognize that your abilities are more suited to defense, Asclepius. It is only--"

She interrupted him yet again, cutting off his words with the same dismissal he had given to her in the Lost Grounds. Yet, he couldn't shake his aggravation. Would the woman never let him speak? How was he supposed to apologize if she kept blocking him out?

"I would have never been chosen as an anima if I were not capable," she responded icily.

Gone was the chirpy, kindness he had associated with his dear friend, leaving nothing but the angered and cruel expression she had unfortunately inherited from her mother. It normally took much to draw out this part of her, and Erebus regretted that it had been him to do so. The only hope remained that deep within the timbre of her fury, he still detected the real reason for it all.

She cut her hand through the air. "I would expect as much from my father but not from you, Erebus."

"Well, I'm sorry," he snapped, losing some of the finer edge that most deities spoke with. "But what was I supposed to do? That damned thing had you pinned, and…"

"It couldn't kill me!"

Would she let him speak!

Erebus released a growl of pure frustration as he reached forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, somehow resisting the urge to shake her. "That's not the point! I do not even want to see you hurt, much less injured enough to be forced back to Elysium."

Her jaw clenched, and the rebellious, inappropriate part of himself couldn't help but briefly notice that she was just damn cute when she was angry. "I'm a demi-deity, too! Or have you forgotten? I don't need protection!"

"Dammit!" His fingers tightened. "Do you even know how I felt when I saw you trapped under that creature?" he demanded, hating that his voice had risen past the point of civility. "My heart stopped, Asclepius."

Garnet eyes widened in shock, but she was no more surprised than Erebus himself, who hadn't expected such revealing words to pop out of his mouth. He abruptly released her and turned on his heels, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Tension lined his shoulders, and at a glance, Asclepius could tell that he had meant it. A small measure of guilt for treating him so coldly stirred her heart.

"It doesn't matter that they can't kill you," Erebus continued softly, though he kept his back to her. "It doesn't matter that you will heal quickly. Not when all I can think about is how much it would hurt if you were gone. It is not impossible for you to die, simply improbable. That doesn't change the fact that I couldn't bear to see you hurt because I don't want you to have to suffer anything. Can you understand that?"

Silence descended between them at his revelations, and a brief breeze chose that moment to stir, ruffling his hair and carrying with it the scent of the flowering blooms that surrounded them. Erebus felt dangerously exposed, as if he had revealed a part of himself he wasn't quite ready to let go of. But there was no turning back now; the words had already been spoken. And if nothing else, they were the truth.

"I'm sorry," Asclepius whispered in a response he had not expected. "I did not think. I didn't…" she trailed off, taking a deep, slightly shuddering breath.

A hand tentatively reached out, grasping Erebus' firmly clenched fist and wrapping gently around his fingers. The touch was warm and soothing. She clasped her other hand atop their enjoined ones and stepped up beside him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"I shouldn't have been so hasty to snap at you," Erebus admitted quietly, glad that the antagonism between them was slowly beginning to dissolve. Outside of his mother and Baal, Asclepius was the first person he had befriended. Or to be honest, it was more like she had demanded his friendship whether he wanted it or not.

That had been seven hundred years ago, not long after Orthrus and Raidne had decided to end their tumultuous relationship. It was the only "divorce" those in Elysium had ever witnessed, and very few knew the true cause. It wasn't something that Erebus planned on ever asking Orthrus, especially since it was none of his business.

Still, despite how long it had been, he could remember clearly the day he met the bubbly young deity. It had been at the beginning of Baal and Orthrus' friendship, which was destined to be something more, and Erebus himself had been shy. With his birth father exiled to the Lost Grounds, Sylph had clung to her only child even more tightly, as if she feared he would leave her as well. She had only allowed him to leave when Baal accompanied him; otherwise, he had been kept at her side. Needless to say, he hadn't been given much of an opportunity to make friends.

Of course, considering his young age, it was understandable why his mother was so clingy and why the others whispered behind his back, even if Erebus himself did not understand. Asclepius' easy acceptance of him had been very refreshing, and if not for her, he might have remained the shy, withdrawn boy his mother had inadvertently made him.

Asclepius had latched onto him immediately, giggling as she grabbed his arm and tugged him out from hiding behind Baal's legs. She had said they were going to play tag, and though he had no clue what she was talking about, he had let her drag him along nonetheless. Despite there being only two of them, he remembered it was the most fun he had ever had.

The nuzzling of his shoulder, much like a cat, pulled him from his thoughts. He smiled softly, relieved to find all tension ebbing away from him. He turned, and a darkly clothed arm reached out, drawing Asclepius into his hold. She relented, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest, fitting neatly beneath his chin. The apprehension that had gripped him mercilessly finally felt free to release itself.

"I'm still going to fight, you know," she informed him after a moment of silence, voice muffled.

He grinned. "I know."

"But I'll be more careful. I'd hate for your worry lines to get any deeper."

The urge to laugh rose up within him, and he allowed himself a chuckle, knowing that she was intentionally teasing him. "Good."

She fell quiet then, contemplative even. Despite all that was going on in Gaia, it was a moment of peace for them, the worries of the battle past and battle to come all but faded. It was fleeting at best but cherished nonetheless.

"Ne, Erebus?"

"Yes?"

Asclepius sighed, all notes of cheer gone from her voice. It was strangely uncharacteristic but not impossible considering recent events.

"What can I do for Ichigo? Is there any way to help Reeve?"

The older deity frowned. "I honestly do not know. If Seiryu does not know, then it stands that there may be nothing." He paused in sudden consideration. "Fenrir has gone to ask Ma'at, not only for Reeve but for his animus, and Seiryu has sought out Hephaestion's guidance."

"It just doesn't seem right," Asclepius commented. "This all started between us, but it is the mortals who have the most to lose. Your animus is fated to either eternal loneliness or madness, whichever comes first, and Reeve and Zack might never wake up. We've already lost Raijin and the others on Balaam's side. The balance might never recover." Her voice broke off suddenly as her body began to tremble.

Though he couldn't see her face, he knew that she was crying, evident by the shaking of her shoulders. "I don't know what to do, Erebus. He's in so much pain, and I can feel every ache. It hurts like something physical, as if someone had skewered me with a spear."

Erebus swallowed thickly, understanding completely. Vincent was in similar agony, but Erebus was not as compassionate as Asclepius nor was Vincent's lover in a coma. Not to mention her bond with Reno was much too new for her to have learned how to block certain aspects of it. The emotional torment would be shared, and there was nothing he could do to ease the ache.

"I know," he soothed softly, placing a hand on her hair, attempting to at least offer some comfort. "I know."

* * *

Orthrus peered around the edge of the wall lining his garden, watching as his daughter and Erebus finally resolved their little argument. It wasn't so much that he was spying per se but curiosity and concern had compelled him to be nosy. And he didn't think that Asclepius would be too keen on knowing that her father was watching, so he had been forced to secretly peek out from the shadows. Dark eyes widened in slight surprise as he caught sight of them kissing, not having expected ever to see that.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around him from behind and warm lips pressed to his neck. The faint tingle of magic in the air was all the information he needed as to the identity of the embracer, and Orthrus shivered as he leaned into the hold, his eyes sliding closed of their own accord.

"You're eavesdropping," Baal murmured into his ear, his breath a warm whisper across the other man's flesh.

Orthrus shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he defended his actions. "It is a father's right to ensure his daughter's safety," he replied defensively, dropping one hand to rest on the arm settled around his waist.

The winged deity chuckled and placed his chin on his lover's shoulder, peering over him to spy on his adopted son and Asclepius. "He really cares for her," he mused aloud, able to see the adoration shining in golden eyes, even from the distance.

"I know. The feeling is mutual." Orthrus sighed, welcoming the subtle weight on his side. "Soon, she will not be mine to protect any longer." A comforting thumb rubbed over his robe-draped belly, teasing him with intentions that Baal was not going to follow through with at the present moment.

"It is coming eventually, true," Baal remarked. "But you will always be her father. Loving Erebus will not change that."

The other deity made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat as he turned from the romantic scene between the younger deities in his garden. Baal automatically took that opportunity to draw him away and pin him against the outer wall. Clawed hands settled carefully on his hips as his lover's lips unerringly found Orthrus' sensitive throat.

He hummed contently. "There is little more we can do for them now… is that what you are implying, Baal?" he wondered aloud, having a difficult time maintaining coherent thought as trills of rising arousal trickled down his spine. Orthrus loosely draped his arms over Baal's shoulders, gently stroking a finger down the velvet webbing of one wing.

A warm tongue slid along the God of Magic's skin, trailing upwards until it found the sensitive hollow just beneath his left ear. "I meant no such thing," Baal responded, his breath a moist puff in Orthrus' skin.

The pinned male shivered, his body recalling all too eagerly his lover's touch. A fanged grin followed, wondering if he would be able to convince Orthrus to return to the mansion with him.

"I am simply stating the inevitable truth," Baal continued, tracing his tongue along the shell of the other male's ear. He shifted his hips forward in that moment, lightly grinding their pelvises together.

When Orthrus gasped, he quickly took advantage of the situation, claiming the older deity's mouth with a hasty, possessive movement. His tongue slid inside, swiping around and relishing the delicate favor. Orthrus' moaned lightly into the kiss, pressing closer together and sharing a bit of body warmth that always seemed hotter than normal.

Orthrus squirmed deliciously in his hold. "Baal, not here," Orthrus finally managed to gasp out as Baal's mouth fell away, only to graze his teeth and moist lips along the sensitive portion of his neck. "Although, I am pleased to see you pulled from your earlier melancholy…" His words trailed off as Baal's arousing motions abruptly ceased, his claws unconsciously tightening in their hold.

Baal's forehead shifted then, moving to rest on Orthrus' collarbone as his wings twitched faintly behind him. A breeze wafted by, disturbing the strange silence and carrying on it the scent of flowers and brief snatches of conversation just behind them. Orthrus frowned, realizing that he had inadvertently ruined the mood.

"Baal?"

"I apologize, Orthrus," the winged deity murmured quietly, shifting closer to him and sliding his arms entirely around the other male.

Orthrus tilted his head to the side, resting it against silken strands of dark hair. "I do not understand, nali'min(1). You have nothing to seek forgiveness for."

"I do," Baal insisted, finally lifting his head as looked into dark eyes, which still managed to captivate him every time. "For brooding over a past that does not matter and something that never was when I have my future right in front of me."

Orthrus shook his head, a surge of emotion rising up inside of him at Baal's words. "Matters of the heart are not so easily pushed aside, even I know that. You are well aware of the times that I regret my own failings." He smiled briefly, though the action did not reach his eyes. He rubbed a finger over the spot on Baal's back where his wings joined the pale flesh in a comforting motion.

"This battle will not be easy for any of us," he continued, raising his gaze to the landscape outside the walls of his home. "My only consolation being that Raidne has already been defeated. I was lucky in that regards; I did not have to face her on the field of battle."

"You may be even luckier," Baal stated grimly. "If your other does not listen soon, you will not be able to join the battle at all."

Orthrus sighed. "Unfortunately, you are right. And with the others pulling their power from the materia, our mortals are distinctly outnumbered. I am tempted to say it is near hopeless."

"Do not say such things," Baal chastised, and surprised by the passion in his voice, Orthrus returned his gaze to his lover, finding that his eyes burned with determination. "Balaam will fall. Even if it must be my hands alone."

Even if it broke his heart just a little bit more on the inside… but that went unsaid.

Orthrus understood all too well. He was silent for a moment before shaking his head again.

"I was not being pessimistic, dear Baal, merely realistic." His voice dropped, lower and more intimate. "You have nothing to prove to me."

"I know," Baal replied on a quiet sigh. "I know." He dipped his head then, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

Orthrus relented, parting his lips to allow his lover's tongue to slip inside. He pulled Baal even closer, despite the fact that he was well aware that this was not the place to be engaging in such actions. He just wanted to be close to his lover for the moment. His own emotions were just as turmoiled, half of it an offshoot of what his animus was projecting, the other half his own fears and concerns. He didn't want to lose sight of what was important.

Baal's hands slid around to his back, pulling Orthrus closer and bringing their pelvises together in an arousing grind. The God of Magic gasped into the kiss, his blood stirring within his veins as gentle fangs nipped at his lips.

"How long until the Conclave," Baal asked somewhat breathlessly.

Inwardly, Orthrus groaned at the reminder. It seemed they were always short on time.

"Not long enough," he responded with some regret.

A clawed hand began to work its way inside his robes nevertheless. "I can be quick," Baal assured him, sliding his palm across Orthrus' warm flesh.

Onyx eyes darkened with lust as his eyelids shuttered closed, unable to even bring up a protest. Instead, Orthrus dipped his head forward and curled his tongue around the shell of Baal's ears, nibbling on the erogenous zone that he had come to know well since they had become lovers. Wings seemed to shudder with approval, and he was about to continue, when the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat made him freeze in utter shock.

Orthrus' eyes popped open, only to find both Asclepius and Erebus standing a few feet away. His daughter looked amused, a vaguely reprimanding look on her face as she stood with both hands on her hips. Erebus, however, seemed slightly embarrassed and was looking anywhere but at the two of them. Orthrus automatically felt himself flush to the roots of his hairs, despite the fact that he was far too old for such responses.

"Here I was thinking that you had come to make sure we were not missing the meeting, and yet, I find you necking like two horny mortal teenagers," Asclepius stated in faintly bemused tone. She shook her head, though the twitching of the corner of her mouth belied her delight.

With one parting nip to the soft flesh before him, Baal extracted himself with much reluctance. "I know for a fact your father taught you respect to your elders," he replied, not at all discomfited by their presence as he turned around. His gaze flickered to his adopted son, who had yet to look at him, before briefly registering on his lover.

Really, it was almost too cute.

"I take it back, Erebus," Baal replied, humor etched into his expression. "It appears one never gets too old to be embarrassed." He snuck a glance at Orthrus, who had put a hand up to his face and groaned aloud.

"Really, Baal. You are worse than the younger ones sometimes," the God of Magic intoned, shaking his head.

Asclepius chuckled. "I would take offense to that if I hadn't just caught you two spying on us," she teased, throwing an amused look at Erebus. "I should have known."

"We weren't spying," Orthrus interjected hastily, his hands falling down to his sides as he eyed his lover. "Right?"

Bemused, Baal shook his head. "He was spying," he explained, gesturing towards the older deity. "I, however, was trying to convince him to return to the manor."

"Baal!" Orthrus exclaimed, wishing he could put a muzzle over him sometimes. "Have you no discretion?" His face burned; he could feel it.

"Really, Father," Erebus inserted, shaking his head in disbelief. "There are some things I don't want to know."

Asclepius bounced on the heels of her feet, reaching around to lightly punch her friend on the arm. "I think it's cute," she countered before winking. "Actually, the both of you are. Especially when you blush."

Baal chuckled, opening his mouth to respond when suddenly a trumpet sounded from somewhere in the distance. The clarion call was clearly a summons, immediately informing the four that there was somewhere they needed to be. Their eyes swiveled towards the setting light, a frown marring Orthrus' rather youthful expression.

"We are going to be late," he murmured, shooting a disproving glance to his lover. "The animus have already begun their meeting; it is time that we attend ours."

* * *

Outside the meeting room, Sephiroth was intercepted by Elmyra who managed to detach Denzel from him… but not without a large measure of difficulty. A meeting to discuss battle was no place for the child, and after promising to visit as soon as it was over, Denzel reluctantly allowed himself to be led away. He watched the boy go before sighing and pushing open the door, finding that he was the last to enter.

Within, seven pairs of eyes instantly centered on him as the hushed conversation completely fell silent. Only seven, he noted grimly. Compared to the eleven of their previous meeting, seven might not seem like such a loss, but in this war, he simply couldn't call for reinforcements. There were none. And even the loss of one person meant that there was someone in mourning. That someone had suffered the loss of a person they held dear.

These were the sobering thoughts that crossed through his mind the instant he took his seat, and beneath their expected looks, he tried not to quail. Inwardly, his mind was awhirl with questions and concerns. He had to fight down the urge to rush back to the infirmary and never leave Zack's side. It wasn't in his nature to give up and give in, but for one moment, he had actually contemplated doing so.

Closing his eyes for a moment, just to regain control of everything that was spiraling out of his command, Sephiroth took a deep breath. It didn't do much for the shuddery, quaking feeling inside of him, but it gave the appearance that he was ready. That was all that mattered.

He opened his eyes, sweeping it over those gathered, who were expectantly waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat noisily as he centered his gaze on the two who had been present in the city.

"What happened in Midgar?" he asked, jumping right into business.

Barret and Rude exchanged glances, but it was the former AVALANCHE leader who responded. "Balaam and his fuckin' cronies attacked," Barret explained. "That's what happened. Cloud died trying to keep them away from Denzel."

Sephiroth inwardly flinched at the man's tone of voice. There was accusation in there, as well as a certain measure of bitterness that he could not miss.

"What kind of forces did he have?"

"I suspect his entire army," Rude inserted.

Elena shook her head, looking very wan and bedraggled. "Not all of it," she interjected, her voice sounding dull. "Do not forget that he razed Icicle to the ground. If there are any survivors, they have nowhere to return." Her gaze remained locked on the table, and her clothes were rumpled, some blood still spattered on them, as if she hadn't the time to do more than wipe off what she could.

The former General leaned back in his chair, frowning in contemplation. "And most of what we encountered at Barrier Island were regular monsters. Altered perhaps and obviously experimental, but few demi-deities. I think we fought eight at the most."

"Not to mention the broken materia," Archer commented, thinking back to the battle. He had tried to use a Fire spell, but the materia had cracked clear down the middle without a single cast.

Rude raised a brow, unable to keep his usual silence. "Broken materia?"

"Yes." Sephiroth nodded, recalling the brief conversation he had scarcely listened to in the short and quick ride from the Lost Grounds to Fort Condor. "I don't know why, but some of our materia simply will not work anymore. Such as Lightning and Fire."

Elena sucked in a sharp breath, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Lightning?" she questioned softly, almost timidly before raising her gaze to Sephiroth. "You said Lightning?"

"It didn't crack like the others. Instead, it grew dim and refused to cast not long after the battle with Byakko was won," Nanaki explained. He reached for his armlet, plucking out the green materia and placing it on the table. It rolled lightly before coming to a stop, all eyes centered on the small sphere.

There seemed to be only the dimmest glimmer of light flickering within, barely noticeable to even the sharpest of eyes. Certainly, the aura of power usually exuded by the materia was absent. For all intents and purposes, it seemed… dead.

In response, Archer reached into his pocket and pulled out what remained of his Fire, placing the shattered pieces on the table as well. The sphere had broken into four shards, each portion splintered across the glossy surface in a spidery fracture.

"Raijin," Elena whispered in understanding, reaching out and sliding her finger across the darkened materia. "He once told me that he was the Patron God of the Air and Lightning and that his power was lent to the Bolt materia." She paused, picking up the small sphere and rolling it between her fingers, saddened brown eyes fixed on it. "It was a long explanation… and I didn't pay much attention, but he said that if he was ever destroyed and not just sent back to Elysium, then all that remained of his power would be contained in the materia. No more could ever be made from the Lifestream alone until another was born with similar abilities."

Silence swept over the table as the others considered her words. The implications were worrisome. Sephiroth wondered what would happen if other deities lost their lives as well.

"It was a trap then," Vincent inserted, briefly rubbing a hand across his forehead. "There is no other explanation. The person we mistook for Balaam was definitely not him."

Mossy eyes flickered to the older man. "You know this for sure?" Sephiroth asked.

The former Turk nodded. "I can still feel him, and the pieces of his power that remain as well. I think that he is behind the dream, which led me to remember the Lost Grounds." He paused, staring down at the table. "It is much too convenient otherwise."

"Do you know where he is?" Tseng asked, sitting forward in his seat. There was a frown marring his face, and he seemed distracted, which made sense considering one of his close friends was in a coma in the hospital.

Vincent shook his head, gaze falling to the table. "No, I don't. It is just like before."

Across the table, Sephiroth sighed, the urge to pinch his nose in frustration rising up strongly within him. At that moment, he dearly missed Cloud's presence. Although the arguments had not begun, he suspected they would eventually, what with Barret and his increasingly stormy expression. The former General admitted he felt a bit at a loss, uncertain what to do about the man's death, Zack's injury, and his own lingering feelings of failure and inadequacy.

He exhaled sharply again before turning his gaze towards Elena. "Why did you go to Icicle?" he questioned, hating how reprimanding his tone sounded. "Didn't I leave instructions _not_ to leave Midgar?"

"Excuse me for not wanting to leave them to their deaths!" she hissed in return, eyes flashing. "And neither did Reeve."

"And look where it got you," Sephiroth countered, already sensing his irritation welling up, his usual unruffled demeanor absent. "Tuesti is in a coma, the ninja is injured, and Icicle was destroyed." He gestured vaguely in the direction that Midgar once lay, to the North of Fort Condor. "Midgar is now little more than a heap of rubble."

Nanaki frowned, not liking the extremely tense atmosphere. "You cannot blame that on their choice alone," he inserted quickly. "Maybe it was a trap. Maybe it was all Balaam's clever ploy, but still…" He paused, shaking his head as he tapped a finger on the table. "I would have done the same. It is not in our nature to simply leave the innocent to their fate."

"Yeah!" Barret cut in, snorting loudly. "If it's anyone's fault, it's your own fer comin' up with that damn fool plan!" he added, shooting Sephiroth an annoyed look.

He finally gave into the urge and pinched the bridge of his nose, an unsettling feeling fluttering in his belly. That was what he had feared… he was to blame after all. It had been his plan, his leadership, his mistakes. Now, the blood was on his hands, the failure on his conscience.

"That is not the issue right now," Sephiroth stated calmly, trying to quell the potential dispute before it even began. His body began to tremble without his knowledge. "What is important is that we figure out where Balaam is now. The question of how remains--"

A fist slammed into the table before he had even finished the last of his words, Barret's low growl echoing. "It's easy to push it aside when the blame's on you, isn't it?" he sneered. "Well, Cloud's dead, Hojo Junior. And I'm blamin' you."

An icy feeling flooded Sephiroth's chest, and it was only through his intense self-control that he managed to refrain from showing his sudden surge of emotion.

"It wasn't my hand that killed him," he disagreed, feeling as if his argument fell short and his words rang hollow. It was _his _fault; there was no turning around it.

The plan had been his, the leadership on his shoulders. Their lives, their _trust_ had been in his hands, and he had failed. He had failed Cloud; he had failed Zack… He had failed everyone.

His gaze dropped to the table, a severe jerking and twisting in his belly filling him with nausea. His hands clenched beneath the table before he knew what he was doing.

"I didn't mean--"

"No, ya didn't," Barret spat, jerking to his feet and causing his chair to scrape backwards so quickly that it slammed into the wall behind it. "No'ne in ShinRa ever means it. You're just like yer damn father, ain't worth nothin'."

_A failure! You are worth nothing to me!_

Sephiroth jerked to his feet, a cold fire screeching through his veins so quickly it felt as if he had been set ablaze. "I'm nothing like my father!" he snarled, rage surging through his entire body. It turned into a white-hot fire as memories, far too many memories, which he would rather forget, started flashing through his mind.

Pain, so much pain, too much pain ripping through his body; screams torn from his throat but falling silent before they passed from his lips. He couldn't cry; he wouldn't cry. That only made it worse. It only meant he was weaker, even more of a failure. That his father would hate him even more.

_It meant he was only useful for that other pain, the other agony that he couldn't escape. Sephiroth swallowed down his pain, the torture, and the flames across his body. The mako bath was like raging torment that he couldn't escape. _

_Ten years old… and he already knew the meaning of the word despair. If such an emotion hadn't previously been beaten out of him. Burned out of him. Trained and taught out of his mind. _

_And they were there every time he turned around. Every time he woke up. His tears burned at the back of his lids, but they did not fall. His body shook and wracked with unshed sobs, pain lancing through him, but he didn't utter a sound. _

_Sephiroth was sure _that_ man liked it that way. _

_He couldn't fight back, wasn't allowed to do so. This was training… or so he had been told. You will be stronger. You will be my perfect little creation, the perfect soldier. He didn't even allow himself to cry at night when he was alone, curled up into the lonely cot, wishing for someone to save him. _

_Sometimes, he even wished for death…_

A cold fear had tingled across Vincent's skin the moment that Sephiroth jerked to his feet, screaming in a voice that hadn't sounded his own. His heart leapt in his chest when eyes that had been a beautiful stone-green, now flashed mako jade, pupils oscillating. Sudden understanding clicked when a strange flame licked across the former General's skin at the same moment that he paled so deeply; he almost appeared to become a ghost.

Vincent rose to his feet, refusing to take his eyes off of the trembling Sephiroth. And the man's fingers clenched into the tabletop, as if it were the only thing holding him together.

"What the hell…?" Archer breathed, eyes going wide as he scooted back in his chair, gaze flickering to Barret. "What did you say to him?"

The dark-skinned man shook his head violently, backing away from the former General. "I told ya we never should have trusted him! Man's gone fuckin' whacked."

"Get out!" Vincent hollered, slicing a hand through the air. "All of you! Get out now!" His voice echoed around the small conference room.

Six pairs of stunned eyes turned towards him, staring in stupefaction. He growled irritably, slamming his palm into the table and causing Elena to jump in her seat.

"Have you grown deaf? Get the fuck out!"

His uncharacteristic shout was enough to spur them to action. Rude was the first to the door, accustomed to obeying orders, and taking one look at Sephiroth, whose face was twisted unnaturally, Barret was quick to follow.

More flames licked across Sephiroth's pale flesh, green in nature and very similar to an Ultima spell. Gasping in surprise, Elena backed towards the door, cutting her eyes at Vincent before deciding he was the best to make the decision. Of course, she was helped along by Archer, who half-dragged her out.

Only Tseng remained, sweating profusely as he gripped tightly to the table. None of his barriers, none of his shields were strong enough for the emotions Sephiroth was projecting.

_Pain, regret, self-revile, guilt, shame…_

All of it flooded out of the man in palpable waves, which Tseng couldn't block. They pulsed at his mind, throbbing through his brain so violently that he had sucked in a sharp breath.

Yet, Vincent paid him no mind. With the others gone, he finally circled around the table, slowly approaching Sephiroth, who had yet to move. He couldn't deny that a small treble of fear rose within him, especially when he saw madness reflected in Sephiroth's eyes. But he also knew that if his instincts were correct, then he had to somehow stop the former General before it was too late.

For what, he didn't know.

Suddenly, Sephiroth let out a snarl of rage, swiveling his maddened gaze towards Vincent. Emerald flames raced across his body, screeching towards his hand as Sephiroth's fingers clenched into an angry fist. He whirled towards the former Turk.

"Sephiroth," Vincent attempted, but there was no sign of recognition. Gritting his teeth, the gunman took a step forward, trying again. "Sephiroth!"

The former General lunged without preamble, and Vincent twisted his body to the side, barely missing the man's quick movements. However, Sephiroth quickly spun on his heels, a fist flying out only to be caught by Vincent's golden claw. A growl emanated from Sephiroth's throat before he lashed out with his leg, Vincent barely turning to the side in enough time to avoid it.

He yanked on Sephiroth's arm, throwing the disorientated man off balance. He quickly latched onto him, trying to pin Sephiroth's arms to the sides as he mentally reviewed his materia. As the former General struggled in his hold, an almost desperate edge to his movements, Vincent quickly whispered a Sleep.

Only to have it fail.

A quick glance informed him that the materia was working, but Sephiroth's armlet prevented it from taking effect. Yet, Vincent couldn't get it off the man on his own.

His eyes flickered to the only other person in the room.

"Tseng!" he barked before suddenly gasping when an elbow jerked into his belly. He stumbled backwards, a cough escaping his lips as stars danced in his eyes for a brief moment.

A weight barreled into him, knocking him into a nearby wall, and only his quick reflexes saved him from the fingers wrapping around his neck. He grabbed Sephiroth's hand before it could reach him, twisting it towards him. That forced the former General towards him, even as another hand aimed a hit to his head.

Vincent ducked to the side, nimbly avoiding the blow. Slitted jade eyes flashed in a dangerous fashion as Vincent surged forward, sending the both of them careening to the floor.

He was lucky. If Sephiroth hadn't already been half out of his mind and disorientated, he would not be able to come out top.

After wrestling around for a few tense seconds, Vincent finally grabbed the man's arms and pinned them to the ground. He snapped his head up, finding that Tseng was staring at the two of them in horror, visibly shaking.

Cursing under his breath, Vincent glared. "Tseng, you have to pull off his armlet before I can cast Sleep!" he snapped, wondering why in the hell the usually unflappable man was suddenly deciding to be absolutely useless.

He received no response.

"TSENG!"

Silver eyes blinked before the Turk seemed to respond. He nodded once and quickly knelt at Sephiroth's side. The former General thrashed beneath Vincent, a strange look gleaming in his eyes and more flame racing across his skin, miraculously not burning anything.

He was beginning to mumble as well, words that made very little sense, but they reminded Vincent all too eerily of the time Cid had described to him when Chaos had tried to break free from him. As if his memories were attacking him one right after the other.

With a start, Vincent remembered all too clearly what memories had caused that reaction with him.

But in that moment, Tseng yanked off the armlet, and without pause, Vincent followed it up with a cast of Sleep, grateful when it took immediate effect. Sephiroth slumped beneath him, eyes shuttering closed.

Vincent sighed, shifting his body to the side, where he slumped against the wall. Beside him, Tseng stared, scraping a shaky hand through his hair. Grey eyes fell on the unconscious man, an uncertain, nauseating feeling settling in his belly.

What had Hojo done to his son?

"What happened?" Tseng asked, after a moment of silence.

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know. I honestly don't know." He sighed, finding that his body was shaking without him even realizing. "Can you help me move him to a bed?"

"Bed?" the other man repeated somewhat dumbly.

"Yes, a bed," Vincent replied somewhat shortly before eying the Turk Commander with some concern. "What is the matter with you?"

Tseng rose to his feet, brushing nonexistent fuzz off of his clothing. "Nothing." He paused as he frowned. "I believe there are sleeping quarters just down the hall."

Vincent's gaze flickered between Sephiroth and Tseng for a moment. He was certain something was going on that he didn't know about. However, he simply sighed and stood.

"Very well then."

* * *

Sorry for the long wait! I'm nearly done with this, I promise! Only eight more chapters to go! Thanks for reading and I look forward to hearing your comments.


	67. Aftermath

**Caution: Unbeta'd. Beware the random grammatical errors. I've looked over this twice but some always slip past me. **

**Chapter 67: Aftermath**

Zack's hand was incredibly cold in his. Lifeless and clammy, lacking the exuberant warmth that he usually exuded. The chair he was sitting in was uncomfortable, hard and unyielding beneath him but he wasn't about to move. He had some vague, irrational belief that if he stayed by his best friend long enough, Zack would miraculously awaken.

It was a futile, hopeless thought.

Unconsciously squeezing the limp fingers in his grasp, Sephiroth raised his head from his other hand. His gaze swept over Zack's unconscious form, the few bandages and the comforting steady rise and fall of his chest. Guilt tightened inside of Sephiroth so strongly that he choked on it. While deep down inside he thoroughly wished he were the god he had once claimed to be because then he could have healed him.

Then he could be worth something more than sitting uselessly at Zack's side.

He didn't know what happened, couldn't even begin to guess. But he did know that he was partly to blame, _mostly _to blame. He was supposed to be watching Zack's back. It was his duty to help protect him. It was like Nibelheim all over again, his weaknesses consuming him.

And now, his emotions were raging out of his control, oscillating out of his command at an instant. He was full of rage and despair, consumed by a helpless feeling and tears kept burning at the back of his eyelids. Yet, he didn't weep... couldn't cry. Not even for his best friend or the man that had died, leaving him to lead these people alone. And with Zack unconscious and Sephiroth's grief threatening to envelop him completely, that horrible feeling of loneliness was beginning to surface again.

Being alone was a feeling he was all too familiar with.

He hadn't realized how much he depended on Zack to keep him sane until that stability was taken out from under him. And now, everyone knew how thin and tenuous his grasp on sanity was. For what was perhaps the third time that day, Sephiroth began to wonder if Jenova was really gone.

It didn't help that Valentine was beginning to question the same thing.

Hazy and scattered, flashes of fear and pain... a ripping, burning and screams lodged in his throat, such dreams lingered on his conscious when he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly in the harsh sunlight and it took several moments for him to register his surroundings... that he was lying on a bed somewhere.

It was another minute before he could firmly recall what he last remembered. Barret's accusation, his own madness, finding himself trapped in the nightmare of his past... and then nothing but darkness washing over him. It was an empty darkness, where he floated in ignorance and blissful peace, even if only for a short time.

Again. It had happened again and this time, everyone was witness to his insanity. There was no hiding or denying it.

Releasing a small, resigned sigh, Sephiroth raised a shaky hand and rubbed it over his face. His senses prickled and he belatedly realized that he was not alone, wherever he was.

"You're awake," a voice stated, a very familiar and calm tone.

Sephiroth nodded, sliding his hand away and turning his head to find Vincent sitting in a chair at his side. "What happened?" His voice was raspy.

Grey eyes regarded him thoughtfully before Vincent rose to his feet and headed over to the window. "I think you already know," he replied enigmatically, tugging on the curtains to block the dawn currently trying to blind Sephiroth. "I had to put you to sleep."

"It was probably for the best."

Vincent was silent a moment as he considered Sephiroth's words, his gaze locked on the view from the window. Not that there was much to see other than plumes of grey smoke rising in the distance. He could only assume that it was where Midgar once lay.

"That's happened before... hasn't it?"

The former General flushed as he looked away, locking his eyes on the white-washed wall. "Unfortunately, yes. Not long after you took me to meet my--Lucrecia."

"Yes, well. She tends to have that effect on everyone." He paused as he turned away from the window, returning to his chair and settling into it with his usual inherent grace. "I understand why you kept it a secret."

Sephiroth sighed as he moved into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. "You do perhaps, but the others will not." He winced, his back pounding from the sudden shift but he pushed the pain aside.

"I will deal with the others...even Barret if I must. But he is partly to blame. His words were the trigger, yes?" When Sephiroth nodded, Vincent continued. "And I am sure Zack's condition is not helping matters."

At the reminder of his best friend's injury, Sephiroth flinched, remembering his own blame. His eyes lowered to the ground, staring at the clean and swept wooden floor. "No, it is not." He paused before deciding that if there was anyone he told other than Zack, Valentine was the best choice. "Zack thinks that she might not be gone." It went without saying whom 'she' was.

Vincent hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm. It's a possibility." He shifted in his position before turning his grey, penetrating gaze to the younger man. "Can you handle it?"

Sephiroth frowned in confusion. "What?"

The other man sighed. "In the future... will you lose control again?"

"I don't know."

"At least you're honest." Vincent rose to his feet then, brushing down non-existent fuzz from his clothes. "Regardless of what Barret thinks, you are the best leader we have."

Sephiroth snorted. "I'm the only leader you have. That's not reassuring."

"Perhaps." He turned towards the door before continuing. "Don't forget to keep your promise to Denzel. I would also recommend going to see Zack... and possibly Aeris as well. That battle is not yet through and your forces are numbered."

He stepped forward to leave but Sephiroth quickly interjected before he could get far. "Why?"

Vincent halted. "It may do you some good."

"No. I mean, why do this?" He paused, taking a deep breath as he searched for the right words. Dammit, but he was no good at this. "Why help me for lack of a better word."

The other man was silent a moment, the seconds ticking by in the strange quiet. Sephiroth almost believed that he was not going to get his answer until Valentine suddenly shook his head. He shifted to look at Sephiroth over one shoulder, a strange emotion glinting behind his grey eyes.

"Because in your eyes, I thought that perhaps we had suffered the same," he answered enigmatically before stepping towards the door.

Sephiroth frowned slightly, uncertain of what the man meant. He knew that they both underwent mako treatments and body alterations. That much was plainly obvious. But to what else could Vincent have been referring?

"I leave you alone for a few hours and look what happens." The voice pulled him from his recollections in an instant.

Sephiroth blinked, looking up to find Gilgamesh standing at his side, an unreadable expression on his face. He scowled. "Tch. Fine time for you to show up. Where have you been?" he demanded, able to take out his irritation on his anima since there was no other outlet.

Gilgamesh raised a brow. "Don't bring your frustration to me," he admonished before sweeping his gaze over Zack's prone form. "I am not to blame for the Wolf Child's condition."

"Then who is?"

The demi-deity shook his head. "This is not of our doing. This has something to do with the planet. It is one of the many things that we discussed at the conclave."

Sephiroth frowned, head tilted to the side. "Conclave?" he repeated with little comprehension. The word sounded archaic, even more so than the history texts he had studied in what seemed like such a long time ago.

"It is what you mortals would call a war council, in less words," Gilgamesh answered. "We discussed the outcome of the battle as well as the losses to both sides. There are several deities that were extinguished."

Mossy eyes blinked. "Extinguished?" He felt little more than a parrot, repeating Gilgamesh's words back at him. But he didn't understand what the demi-deity was referring.

Gilgamesh sighed, turning his body to rake his gaze over the rest of the infirmary. Both Cid and Yuffie were fast asleep in their beds, looking very much bruised but at least alive. Though the pilot's rest seemed somewhat agitated and Gilgamesh wasn't quite sure where Valentine was currently located. Either way, the both of them wouldn't be in the battle to come. The deity doubted their significant others would allow it.

His eyes then flickered to the cordoned off area at the far back of the infirmary, where Reeve was currently in a coma. He could just make out the bright flash of Reno's red hair just beyond. There was another situation that he just couldn't fathom. It wasn't an injury that they were accustomed to dealing with. Never in their history had there ever been a forced separation.

"There are two ways to win in battle over another demi-deity," Gilgamesh finally began, his tone slightly distracted. "They can be defeated... or destroyed. It is against our laws to destroy a deity. Not to mention rare and extremely dangerous. I've explained this before."

Sephiroth waved him off. "The explosion of power," he commented. A frown marred his features as he looked down at the limp hand clasped tightly by his. He fought down the surge of guilt and struggled to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"How many?"

His animus remained impassive, yet something in Gilgamesh's stance made Sephiroth believe otherwise. A subtle stiffening of his back, a shifting of his weight... he had been taught to recognize such things. "Six, including two from our own side."

Mossy eyes widened in shock, not suspecting that large of a number. "What kind of implications will that have on the battle to come?"

Gilgamesh sighed. "Unfortunately, the materia they supported will be unstable for quite some time, until the fluctuations manage to subside."

"Such as?"

"Both Lightning and Contain," his anima answered succinctly. "To make matters worse, the others have pulled their powers from the materia they supported. Thus the reason your Fire and Comet did not work."

Sephiroth frowned again. This was going to make the battle that much more difficult for them. His mind flickered to the recent skirmishes, a sudden understanding dawning over him.

"Then Midgar and Icicle...?"

Crimson eyes were solemn as Gilgamesh inclined his head. "Completely obliterated by the fall of Iblion and his foes," he finished for him, returning his gaze to Sephiroth as he ceased his perusal of the infirmary. "Balaam is still cloaking his movements from us. We don't know his plans or his location. I know my son. He will attack soon."

"If you know him, then can't you guess what his plans are?" Sephiroth asked with rising annoyance. He stood, gently releasing Zack's hand and laying it back at his side.

Gilgamesh was remarkably patient, considering he could sense his animus' mounting irritation. He understood, for the most part. Sephiroth was mortal and so was Zack. He was afraid for his friend, afraid of losing someone that meant very much to him. Compound that with the guilt for a plan that he believed failed, and Sephiroth had nowhere to place his anger. It could do nothing but rage inside of him and unfortunately, direct itself to those less deserving. Gilgamesh understood all that, perhaps a little too well.

"No, I cannot," he admitted. "But someone in your group can." He was deliberately vague, wanting the other male to come to the conclusion on his own.

Sephiroth's brow furrowed as he considered it. How could a mortal know anything of the plans of an immortal? It wasn't as if anyone he knew was psychic... A chill swept through him as another realization struck him all too slowly for his liking. How he had been blind to it before remained unclear. Perhaps his fascination with the Turk had interfered.

"He won't do it." Sephiroth sighed, shaking his head. "He won't even listen to his anima." He paused, reconsidering his words and remembering the man's actions at the meeting. "Honestly, he is afraid of doing so."

"He is frightened of the pain it would bring," Gilgamesh corrected. "Both of reminders to his past and the agony involved in hearing a thousand voices pleading within his mind."

Voices. Unfortunately, Sephiroth understood Tseng's fear over those all too well. And now he could already feel a headache beginning to pulse at the back of his eyes. He sent a silent apology to his friend before turning to leave the infirmary. He and Gilgamesh needed to finish their conversation elsewhere.

They slipped out, passing by Valentine who was heading in. The former Turk shot them a confused glance but didn't stop to ask any questions. He merely inclined his head and immediately headed to the pilot's side. And neither of the pair seemed to notice the set of aquamarine eyes that had been surreptitiously eavesdropping on them the entire time.

In the hallway, Sephiroth stepped out of the path of a hurrying, nameless face and rubbed his temple with his finger. "Fear or not, I don't think anything I could say would convince him otherwise."

"You have no choice," Gilgamesh argued, his cloaks swishing around his feet as they walked down the hall. The silence was somewhat unnerving. "You can't afford to wait until Balaam shows himself again, or there won't be anything left of Gaia to save."

"I realize that!" Sephiroth snapped, beginning to lose his patience in an uncharacteristic manner. "I am well aware of the time limit, of the purpose, of my own damn blame. I've not forgotten any of it." He came to an abrupt stop, whirling on his heels to glare at the older male. "I can't do everything and I especially cannot force Tseng to do what he refuses."

Gilgamesh's jaw set with his own exasperation. "He will if you let him know it is our only option." When Sephiroth snorted in disbelief, Gilgamesh elaborated, "If he would for once listen to his animus, the voices and the visions could be controlled. His animus would help him. He was specifically chosen for that reason. You must talk to him."

Mossy eyes cut to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Exactly how do you suggest then? I've never been any good at this sort of thing."

A smirk gradually appeared on Gilgamesh's glower as he garnered amusement from his animus' discomfort. "I am sure you will think of something," he commented. "Now, I must go. There are some things that I must discuss with Seiryu."

Sephiroth waved him off, a frown crinkling his brow. "Go on then. Irritate someone else for a change."

The deity promptly disappeared in a flutter of crimson cloaks, leaving Sephiroth alone to his thoughts in the hallway. He knew he had to find Tseng and speak to him, but somewhat dreaded it. Not only was the topic a sensitive subject for the Turk, but lingering bouts of embarrassment for what had happened earlier still burned at his cheeks. He didn't know if he could face Tseng with a straight face.

Or loose slacks for that matter. Curse his self-imposed years of abstinence. Or maybe Zack was right. Perhaps a dunk in the Lifestream really did make one's libido skyrocket.

Sephiroth paused, cocking his head to the side before chuckling in amusement at himself. Actually thinking to believe one of Zack's inane hypotheses meant he was really losing his mind.

Either way, Gilgamesh was right.

Tseng was their only hope.

* * *

She ate only because Midori needed the nutrition. She slept when her body gave into her exhaustion and let blessed unconsciousness consume her. Otherwise the memories continued flashing over and over through her mind, the last pieces other than her daughter, that she had of Cloud. And Aeris smiled because she feared that if she started to weep, it would never end.

It was the only way she could endure the gnawing ache inside of her. Loneliness was a consuming, gripping feeling, she had come to learn. And nothing was filling her hollow heart. Even her daughter was quiet inside of her, as if she knew what had happened to her father.

It simply wasn't fair.

For all that they had suffered already, for all of the trials they had already endured... they had only wanted peace... happiness. Yet, Cloud had been taken from her. And she hadn't done anything but stand by and watch. She'd had no choice in leaving him behind.

"It wasn't your fault." The words were accompanied by a slight surge of magic as Hephaestion swirled into existence. He stood beside where she sat on a chair, staring out the window at the cresting waves on the darkened sea. It didn't bring her much calm, but she had little else to do.

Her fatigue was far too great to actually go anywhere.

Jade eyes, shimmering but refusing to cry, hardened. "I know that," she responded stiffly. "I never said that it was."

"But you do feel as if there was something you could have done," her anima pressed gently, his tone kind as usual. It did nothing to soothe her turmoiled heart however.

Aeris blinked but it was a moment before she responded, unconsciously rubbing her belly. "In my state, there was nothing I could do. Cloud... he... he knew what was going to happen somehow. And I know he would have wanted Midori's safety above all else."

Hephaestion sighed before laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, attempting to be comforting. "He died protecting you both, as he always wanted to do."

She sucked in a shuddery breath before shrugging out from under his touch, forcing his hand to slide off of her shoulder. "Please," she pleaded softly. "Don't try to comfort me."

"It's not--"

"That is not what I meant," she corrected hastily. "It's only that... if you do, then I fear I will start crying and never stop." She paused, feeling her lips trembling, and quickly tried to reign in her cresting emotions. "I can't afford to mourn right now."

Hephaestion nodded in understanding, kind eyes darkened in a reflection of his animus' grief. "Is there nothing I can do to ease your pain?"

"Not unless you can raise the dead," she responded bitterly. "But I know that the time for those sorts of miracles is not now. The planet has already told me as much. To do anymore than what has already been done will upset the already irregular balance of spirits in the Lifestream." She halted in her speech, swallowing thickly over the huge lump in her throat as her other hand clenched all too tightly on the arm of her chair. It was the only physical indication of her grief.

Her animus opened his mouth to speak again, perhaps more words of hollow comfort that did nothing for her pain, when a knock echoed through the small room. She was currently sharing the quarters with Reis and Denzel, the amount of space limited in Fort Condor. Aeris wasn't sure how the others were arranged and hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. Reis had left not but ten minutes before, to go see if she could coax Reno to eat and check on her brother and Denzel was currently with her mother.

She cleared her throat. "Come in," the flower-girl called out, noticing that her voice was faintly raspy. Beside her, Hephaestion disappeared in a brief sparkle and flux of power, giving her the privacy she might have needed.

The door creaked open as a blond head popped in through the small crack. It was Elena. "Up for a visitor?" the Turk questioned, a small and sad smile on her face. It was clear that she was merely putting on a front.

Aeris nodded. "Yes, Elena. Come on in."

The Turk slid inside and closed the door behind her. Considering that they were on the residential floor of Fort Condor and many were milling about in the halls, it was a wise decision. Jade eyes watched her entrance, only to be hit with a sudden realization. Seeing the slight sag to Elena's shoulders and her obvious attempts at remaining cheer, Aeris remembered that she was not the only one who suffered.

Not only was Zack in a coma with an injury that no one could discern, but Reeve was as well, in a remarkably worse condition. Cid and Yuffie were injured but would recover, though it still left them out of the battle. Also, Elena had recently lost her anima. And it showed. Dark circles ringed her normally bright blue eyes and worry pinched lines around her face, making her look much older than her young years.

As Elena gently lowered herself into the chair beside the flower-girl, Aeris turned towards her. "What's going on?"

Elena shook her head, loose blond locks falling over her eyes. "Nothing," she admitted, shifting her gaze to the window. "I just thought you could use some company. Well, that and I was looking for Tseng. Have you seen him?"

"No, sorry." Silence fell between them for a moment before Aeris sighed. "How's Zack?"

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Elena's mouth, her hands twisting in her lap from where she had clasped them together. "I don't suppose there is any change. I really don't know."

Aeris blinked. "You haven't gone to see him?"

"I've tried but Sephiroth is hogging him. I don't think he's moved from Zack's side since he woke up earlier." Just the faintest traces of amusement were evident in Elena's words.

The other female hummed thoughtfully. "Don't hold it against him. They are really close."

"Oh, I know," Elena quickly inserted, assuring Aeris as she nodded. "I almost thought I had something to worry about but then I realized that it's not like that. Besides, Zack's completely straight." She paused, tilting her head to the side as she considered. "Then again, what man wouldn't look at Sephiroth and want to go gay... even for a minute?"

Aeris nodded. "Yes, I see your point. What about Sephiroth? Did he look--"

"Sane?" Elena supplied helpfully.

The flower-girl winced. "For lack of a better word."

"He was tired, grieving, and obviously distressed but sane... I can't say." Elena sighed. "All of us are probably at that breaking point and he's had more shit than I even want to know or think about." She flickered her gaze to the darkened cresting waves out beyond them. "Though if I hadn't seen how he was with Zack, I might have thought it would be better to lock him away."

"And you?"

Blue eyes blinked in confusion. "Me?"

"Yes. How are you holding up?"

Elena's face was grim as she turned towards Aeris. "I should be asking you that question."

"Or more like we should be asking each other." Aeris shifted slightly in her seat, her hand rubbing comfortingly over her belly as Midori stirred.

The Turk nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose." She paused as she considered the question, her eyes falling towards the floor. "I didn't know him long so I cannot really grieve like you are for Cloud but... there is an emptiness inside. It feels as if I am missing something." She shook her head as a humorless chuckle escaped her. "I spent three hours earlier looking for something I was sure I had lost before I realized I was actually thinking of Raijin."

"That effect will probably last for sometime," Aeris mused thoughtfully, remembering the lesson in bonds that Hephaestion had given her a long time ago.

Elena shifted in her seat, quiet for a moment as the two of them stared out the window at the scenery. It wasn't awkward by any means, but the female Turk was searching for the right words to say without sounding either insensitive or like she was coddling Aeris. It was a thin line to walk.

"And you?" she began slowly, cutting her eyes only briefly to Aeris to gauge her reaction. "Have you been able to speak to Cloud?" she asked, remembering that Aeris was an ancient and therefore capable of hearing the words of the Lifestream.

Aeris shook her head. "Not yet, it is much too soon." One of her hands clenched at her side. "The planet cries for him," she added in a much softer voice. "Both for him and the loss of her protectors, Raijin included. I can distinguish no singular voice, but many, all screaming their pain and loss. I sense fear as well, and apprehension."

Elena frowned, brow furrowing. "Fear?" she repeated.

Jade eyes darkened, emotions flitting across the emerald surface so quickly that Elena couldn't catch them. Then she realized that was because they weren't Aeris' emotions, but reflections of what the planet was emanating towards the ancient. Not only her own grief but that of Gaia's as well, no wonder Aeris was refusing to be comforted. She would need all the strength she could gather.

"Yes. The planet knows Balaam is up to something and fears that we might not be strong enough to overcome. Especially since we have lost so many on our side, both to injury and fatality."

Blue eyes searched Aeris' face before Elena hung her head, feeling the sudden need to apologize. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "If we hadn't left Midgar..."

"If you hadn't left Midgar Cloud might not have died, is that what you want to say?" Aeris said, finishing her statement.

When Elena nodded, the flower girl sighed. "That's not something that can be said with certainty. It's not your fault, it's not Reeve's fault... it's not even Sephiroth's fault. He did the best he could with what he was given. I know Barret's grief has turned into anger towards Sephiroth but there was nothing that Sephiroth could do anymore than he had." She paused, taking a deep breath as she rubbed at her belly, Midori gradually settling down within her. "As much as it pains me to know it, the results were most likely a part of Cloud's destiny. And I'm certain he died happy to protect Midori and I."

"I came here to try and cheer you up... and yet you are the one making me feel better," Elena commented, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her eyes.

"You came here looking for Tseng," Aeris corrected.

The Turk shook her head. "Only in part," she assured her before changing the subject. "I'm not a person with many close companions and the Turks are just about the only family I have. But I'd like to think that you are my friend. I know that my own pain is stifling so yours must be ten times worse. If you need me, I am here, even if you don't want the comfort now."

Aeris smiled, a warm feeling beginning to chase away the shattered chill inside of her. "Thank you for understanding."

Elena nodded before slowly rising to her feet. "No problem." She fidgeted with her clothing, in dire need of changing, before continuing. "I'm going to see if I can find Tseng. I have a feeling he's doing something stupid right now."

Though curious as to what Tseng would be doing that his subordinate would consider stupid, Aeris refrained from asking. A knock on her door hindered any question she would have asked anyways.

"I'm just popular today," she commented lightly as Elena headed for the door, opening it with a quiet creak. Four pairs of eyes stared back at her. Shera and Elmyra, along with the two children, stood out in the hall.

"Have you seen Rude?" Shera asked as Elmyra and the kids slid past Elena into the room.

The Turk shook her head. "No. Have you seen Tseng?"

The brunette laughed lightly. "Not a sign. Perhaps they are hiding together?"

Elena stepped out into the hall beside her, closing the door with a quiet click. "Want to look together?" she suggested amicably. "Maybe even do a bit of scheming while we're at it?"

"Scheming, you say?" Shera repeated as they started down the hall at a light pace, heading towards the infirmary first. She idly rubbed her belly. "I might be able to enjoy a bit of scheming. Who's the unlucky candidate?"

Elena managed a mischievous grin. "You'll have to wait and see."

* * *

The quiet in the infirmary was unnerving. Every noise seemed decibels louder than it really was. The beep of the monitor. The whirr of some machine. The low murmur of conversation somewhere beyond his ears. The pungent, crisp odor of antiseptic and bleach... Reno had always hated hospitals. He avoided them at all costs. He had no explanation for it except maybe that he equated them with dying and Reno was remarkably aware of his own mortality.

Of the two of them, he never expected himself to be the one worrying over Reeve. He was always the reckless one. Reno was the Turk, the one who faced down death every day and put his life on the line. Reeve was the sensible one, the one that Reno was glad he didn't have to worry over. Reeve was supposed to keep safe.

Except that he hadn't. Because Reeve's heart was kind and his need to do something too strong.

Inwardly, Reno realized that he was pissed off on top of his grief. Reeve should have been nowhere near the battle. Their orders were to remain in Midgar, that had been Sephiroth's plan. And even if Midgar had been attacked, it was likely the outcome would have been much different.

Maybe Reeve wouldn't be hurt. Maybe Cloud wouldn't have died. And maybe Reno should have stayed behind.

It was the maybes that were killing him. The "what ifs" and the "should haves," all those thoughts kept swirling around in his head. They kept twisting and turning so rapidly that he felt he couldn't breathe. Tears burned at the back of his eyelids... tears of fear and worry, of helplessness and anger. Of regret for something he couldn't have prevented.

Reno couldn't do anything. He was just as powerless as Sephiroth. He couldn't save Reeve; he couldn't pull a miracle out of his ass. All he could do was sit by his husband's side and wish. And hope, a word he hadn't really known the meaning of until he met Reeve.

But the world wasn't saved by wishes and dreams. He couldn't find some magic rainbow to heal his lover. The doctors didn't know what to do. Not even the damn omnipotent deities knew what to do. So Reno was left with no hope but to cling to his husband's hand and wish.

He wished wholeheartedly that the damn great god out there wasn't seeking to punish him for all the terrible things he had done in his life. The Turks were his family and he loved them dearly, but Reeve was his life. There was no comparison. He couldn't survive if Reeve left him.

Reno hated the feeling of being helpless above all things. And with that emotion came anger and hatred. Irrational fury towards Seiryu and the other 'faithful'. He had even refused Asclepius' comfort because at the moment, he simply couldn't look at anything that reminded him of the cause for Reeve's injury. He wanted to scream and cry and rage at everything. And nothing. His worry and his anger compounded into a burning hate. A loathing for Balaam and his cronies. He wanted blood.

But most of all, he just wanted Reeve, awake and alive and unharmed.

"What am I supposed to do?" The broken whisper barely pierced the silence. "Tell me Reeve, what am I supposed to do if you leave?"

A timid voice broke through his thoughts just then, along with the quiet rustling of a curtain. Blinking out of his daze, Reno lifted his red-rimmed gaze towards the small slit in the curtain. A familiar face, equally mournful and concerned, stared back at him.

"Reis," he croaked, his voice raspy and thick from trying not to weep and failing.

Amber eyes filled with tears before she suddenly rushed into the room, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she whispered fervently, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry. If I had known... I would have stopped him."

Reno swallowed thickly, over the lump in his throat. "He's stubborn; he wouldn't have listened."

"I don't think he would have listened to anyone," another voice added in.

At the familiar voice, Reis withdrew from Reno's arms and stepped back, allowing him to rise to his feet. He graciously allowed her his chair before moving to sit down on the bed next to his lover, his hand automatically seeking out Reeve's before aquamarine eyes turned to the male that had entered after Reis. He had almost forgotten about Archer.

"Is there any change?" Reis inserted gently.

Reno shook his head, turning away from her to run his eyes over Reeve's pale face. His breath rose and fell steadily and his skin remained warm but he just wouldn't awaken. He hadn't even moved. That overwhelming feeling of guilt began to surge up within him again. And with it came the fear, the consuming fear that Reno would be left alone again.

His breath constricted in his chest, making it difficult to breathe, and without his consent, his body began a light tremble.

"I'm surprised Seiryu and Asclepius aren't here," Archer commented, his words barely breaking through Reno's haze.

The Turk's head snapped up as he swiveled his gaze around, aquamarine eyes narrowing coldly. "I sent them away," he stated dully.

Surprise registered on the engineer's features while Reis merely looked slightly confused. No one had really explained the truth about all the strange beings she had seen, but a sensible girl, she had taken it all in stride. Besides, now wasn't the time to ask questions.

"What?"

Reno shook his head again, anger beginning a dull beat inside of him. "I didn't want to see any of them. It's their fault."

The other man grasped for words, Tiamat a bit taken aback by Reno's statement as well. "But... surely there's something they can do or--"

"I said no!" Reno snapped, giving Archer no time to complete his statement. He glared angrily, warning Archer against saying anything further.

Wisely, Archer fell silent. His eyes fell away from Reno. Beside him, Reis sensed the strange atmosphere and tried to change the subject. She rose from her seat and moved in front of her brother-in-law, her amber eyes taking careful stock of his appearance. From a doctor's perspective, he looked like shit, and that was a medical term.

Dark circles ringed the man's normally bright eyes and he hadn't even changed his clothes since returning from the Lost Grounds. They were rumpled and spotted with stains, both blood and smoke from a fire. His face was smudged with ash and soot, his hair laying limply against his scalp and somewhere, he had lost his goggles, leaving strands of red hair to fall in his eyes.

"Reno, when was the last time you slept?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

He shrugged noncommittally. "Dunno." Truthfully, he hadn't tried or wanted to. The irrational belief that if he left Reeve's side something terrible would happen that he couldn't prevent kept him from doing anything but sitting there.

Reis sighed. "Go sleep. I'll watch over Reeve."

"No, I can't..." he trailed off, unable to come up with a good argument. How could he impress upon her the need to remain by his husband's side? Even if, honestly, there was nothing he could do.

"What?" she interrupted, one brow faintly twitching. "You don't trust me to take care of my own brother?" she demanded in a slight sharp tone. "Go get a few hours sleep. I'll wake you if there's any changes.

Reno wanted to argue; the words were on the tip of his tongue. His eyes slid back to Reeve, feeling his heart crumple just a bit more.

Reis was quick to notice his hesitation. Her eyes flickered to Archer. "Will you take him somewhere to rest?" she asked quietly before stepping slightly away from her brother-in-law, lowering her voice so that he couldn't hear. "And use a Sleep if necessary. Reeve would kill me if I let Reno make himself ill."

The engineer nodded and moved to gently lay a hand on Reno's elbow, body tensed to avoid a strike just in case Reno reacted violently. Nanaki had already told him earlier of Reno's anger. Yet, the Turk merely sighed and rose to his feet, resigned. He leaned over Reeve, brushing a few longish strands of dark hair off the man's forehead before pressing his lips in a parting kiss. He made a mental note to get Reeve a haircut when he woke up.

Not if, but when.

"I promise," Reis vowed as Archer lightly pulled Reno away from the hospital bed. "I'll run to get you if he even twitches."

"Thanks," Reno rasped as he reluctantly allowed Archer to lead him out of the infirmary, passing by the others as he did so. His gaze flickered over them briefly.

Yuffie was sleeping soundly in her bed, Nanaki nowhere in sight. A doctor was checking Zack's vital signs, which had stabilized though he still showed no sign of wakening. And Cid and Vincent seemed to be in conversation, though their tones were too low for Reno to understand what they were discussing.

Vincent was adjusting Cid's bed, though it didn't really need adjusting. It was more or less something to keep his hands busy as Cid watched him with some amusement on his face. His shoulder ached and his head throbbed, but really, what could be better than Vincent fussing over him? It wasn't often that that happened.

"I must be dreaming," Cid murmured as the blanket was tucked around him again, dark hair brushing across his body. Vincent had lost his tie somewhere in the battle, not that the pilot minded. He liked seeing his hair free.

Grey eyes shot him a confused look as Vincent paused, brow furrowed. Until sudden recognition dawned on him and he shook his head. "Sap," the gunman teased, remembering another time that Cid had told him the same thing.

Cid grunted. "Mebbe." He reached up and grabbed Vincent's wrist with his uninjured arm, forcing Vincent to cease his unnecessary actions. "Sit down, you're making me nervous with all that flitting about," he muttered.

As Vincent moved towards the chair, Cid shook his head and tugged on the gunman's arm, pulling him towards him. "Not on that chair." He patted the bed.

"You're injured," Vincent protested, making no moves to seat himself.

Cid rolled his eyes. "I'm not a fuckin' invalid, Vin. Sit."

With a scowl, Vincent obeyed, only because Cid was injured and therefore deserved to be pampered just a little bit. And perhaps because Vincent felt guilty for Cid's condition in the first place. If he had been just a bit faster... He perched carefully on the space that Cid left for him, scooting over on the bed.

A spear-calloused hand grabbed his own and gave it a brief squeeze before releasing him. "Talk to me. It's boring as hell in here."

Vincent raised a brow. "If you would sleep like you're supposed to, you wouldn't know enough to be bored."

Cid snorted. "Don't need to sleep. I'm perfectly fine."

"With a chunk missing out of your shoulder, a burn on your back and a hole in your leg, I'm sure," Vincent replied drolly.

"Hey, I can still fight," Cid argued defensively. "I'm not defenseless."

Vincent shot him an even stare. "You're not going, Cid."

His eyes raked over the thick bandages wrapped around the pilot's shoulder, barely keeping the wound in check. Baal had brought the antidote for Byakko's bite earlier but the injury was still taking a bit longer than normal to heal. The deity had explained it was because of the broken bond. Vincent wasn't quite sure what that had to do with anything but wasn't really interested in hearing the lengthy explanation.

"You're not leaving me behind," Cid countered stubbornly. "I already told your Turk ass that once already. Where you go, I go."

Vincent sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead with one finger. He sensed that a headache would be soon to come. "You're injured, Cid. You can barely lift a hand much less a spear with that arm."

"Your point?"

He stared for a minute before reaching forward with one hand and lightly poking Cid's bandaged shoulder, barely pressing a finger to it. Cid immediately hissed and recoiled from the touch, pain flashing in his blue eyes. "Wha the fuck was that for?" he demanded. "Damn that hurt."

The next bed over, another patient shot them an annoyed look, probably for the extensive cursing but Vincent ignored her. "My point is made," he responded. "Don't make me cast Sleep on you like I would a child. Byakko's bite has made you weak."

When Cid scowled and looked as if he would argue some more, Vincent sighed again and leaned closer, using his last resort. "Don't make me worry any more than I already am," he added, resorting to a sappy, romantic declaration that wasn't really his style.

It had the desired effect however, and Cid sucked in a deep breath, argument deflating. "I can't watch you if I'm lying here on this hospital bed," he muttered with some petulance.

An amused smile tugged at the corner of the former Turk's mouth. "I think that between Erebus and Baal I will have all the protection I need. Perhaps even more than I want."

A short bark of laughter escaped Cid before he winced and toned it down. "Shouldn't laugh that hard," he mumbled before returning his attentions to Vincent. "If I can't go then you have to promise me something." '

"What is it?" Vincent asked, somewhat warily. A sudden thought occurred to him. "Not kids is it?"

Cid laughed again before regretting the action. "Dammit, Vince, don't say stuff like that. Of course it's not kids." He shook his head, regaining somewhat of that familiar sparkle to his sky blue eyes. "Leave those to homemaker Reeve. We can spoil his brats or something. Nah, I'm talking about a vacation. You, me, and somewhere warm. You owe me."

"I owe you?" Vincent repeated skeptically.

Cid scoffed. "Figures you'd forget. Mideel ring a bell?"

"Ah, I remember now. The date," Vincent replied, a teasing note to his voice.

"Not a date, a vacation," Cid reminded him with a wag of his finger. "I figure, when all this is over, we can go somewhere and get lost for a while. Hide away from everyone."

Vincent hummed thoughtfully, his mind instantly recalling all that had happened to him since he had awoken. Other than the brief and peaceful months spent with the Loire family, it had been nonstop battle and pain. A vacation was certainly something to look forward to and an easy promise to make. He had no plans on dying in this battle. He was through with sacrifices. He still had hope that Erebus and the others would come up with a better after-battle alternative. And he would hope for that until the last possible moment.

"All right," Vincent answered with a nod. "I think I can promise as much."

"Good." Cid grinned. "Now how about finding me some real food. This mush wouldn't even sell to birds." He jerked a thumb towards the uneaten congealed mass that sat in the bowl at his bedside.

Shaking his head, Vincent rose to his feet. "Whatever you want, Chief."

* * *

a/n: If you are curious as to why it takes me so long to update, check out my original site. I have many works on there that I also update with enough variety to please everyone. Het, Slash, Gen, poems, Science fiction, Fantasy, etc. If you like my writing, I definitely recommend that you just take a peek. You might find something you like. And if you do, be sure to drop me a comment. I'll make sure to update that one! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I look forward to your comments! Not much longer now!


	68. Frankly, My Dear

**A/N: Once again, Unbeta'd. Tread cautiously. **

**Warning: There's some limey action down in there. Groping and kissing and such between two male characters. Don't like? I don't know why you're reading this story but... just skip it if you don't. **

**Chapter 68: Frankly, My Dear**

Finding Tseng was easier said than done, Sephiroth discovered with some annoyance. He knew very little of the Wutaiian's habits so he didn't go straight to the roof as he would to find Zack, and was forced to simply wander around the whole of Fort Condor. He asked a few people as he passed, but no one seemed to know where the Turk was. Nor could Sephiroth find either Rude or Elena, both of whom he could assume would know their commander's location.

He had already searched the kitchens, the sleeping quarters, the meeting room and all of the upper levels, leaving him with very few options left. Neme had told him of the mostly abandoned lower levels and with some irritation, Sephiroth had reluctantly chosen that as his next destination. Either that, or he would have to admit that Tseng had simply disappeared off of the face of Gaia. Which was even more unlikely.

He had passed Archer and Nanaki about twenty minutes ago, but neither man had been any help either. They were heading towards the kitchens but promised to let him know if they saw Tseng. He didn't suspect that they would. For some reason, Tseng was hiding and doing a damn fine job of it. Why, Sephiroth couldn't be sure. By all accounts, Sephiroth was the one who had the right to hide considering what had happened. Only, he didn't have that luxury.

With an aggravated sigh, Sephiroth pushed open the door to subbasement B and stepped into the long hall. Luckily, despite the fact they weren't being used, they kept the main lights on. Not that he feared the dark and the mako certainly helped him see better than most people. But he didn't fancy stumbling around in shadows searching for a missing Turk. It was akin to trying to find a needle in a haystack.

He peered into every empty doorway as he passed, flickering on lights and calling out for Tseng. He felt the fool each time he was meant with silence as well. It wasn't until he came out of the fifth empty room that he found himself approaching two very devious looking woman. He wondered what in the hell they were doing on the deserted lower levels as he passed a few rooms to greet them in the middle of the hall.

"Sephiroth," Shera greeted warmly, flashing him one of her kind smiles. She was the type of woman that he had hoped his mother would be like. "You're looking well."

Inwardly, Sephiroth winced. Yes, he probably looked much better than the last time anyone had seen him, half out of his mind and saying insane things. He knew that she hadn't meant it the way it sounded, but it was like a stab to his pride nonetheless. He brushed a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly as if he was in disarray.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better," he responded with a neutral nod before his eyes flickered to Elena. As one of those present at the meeting, he wondered what she thought of him now. Yet, he could discern nothing in her gaze except perhaps curiosity. Lingering signs of hatred and disgust, if there were any, were carefully hidden. Either Tseng had taught her well or they were never there to begin with. Sephiroth wasn't about to conjecture.

"Is Zack doing any better?" Elena queried, her voice entirely neutral. Sephiroth couldn't discern anything from her tone.

The former General sighed, his emotions deflating at the reminder. "No change," he responded quietly, his gaze falling to the floor. "The doctors are doing the best they can but... they don't know what's wrong so they cannot fix it." He needed no reminder as to who the blame should fall on. Yet, another something he was certain wasn't intended but had the effect nonetheless.

Shera nodded sympathetically, one hand patting her belly comfortingly. "It is a terrible event," she commented, brown eyes compassionate.

"I'll have to go see him then," Elena inserted, hastily changing the subject when the tension between them grew noticeable. It was obvious Sephiroth was still bothered by what had happened. "We are looking for Rude, have you seen him?"

Sephiroth shook his head, raising his gaze as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. "Sorry, no. I have been trying to find Tseng. You wouldn't perhaps know where he is?"

Elena huffed, placing both hands on her hips as Shera giggled quietly beside her. "No. He's been unsurprisingly invisible since the meeting." She shook her head as her voice grew, clearly irritated. "That man is the best at disappearing. I know he's hiding."

Sephiroth's brow furrowed. "Hiding?" he repeated, intrigued by her deduction since it was so similar to his own. "What from?"

Both women exchanged glances at his question, sharing a conspiratorial grin that made Sephiroth feel as if he was missing part of the conversation. He regarded the two curiously as they seemed to have a completely silent conversation and waited for them to speak. Suddenly, a prickle raced up his spine, seconds before a heavy weight draped across his back, putting his entire body on alert.

The scent of something spicy and mysterious wafted to his senses, a scent he recognized, as a chin settled on his shoulder. Before he could react, an arm curved around his waist, pulling him backwards against someone's body. A muffled sound of protest escaped Sephiroth's lips but it was interrupted by a voice.

"You've been looking for me?" a voice purred, sounding suspiciously like Tseng.

Sephiroth froze as the heat of the body behind him permeated through his clothes, almost as if by magic. The scent of some alcohol joined the strange spice, and every nerve in his body turned vigilant. He could feel breath ghosting across his throat as the head on his shoulder turned towards his own and the hand at his waist teased at a strip of bare flesh between his shirt and pants. Tseng's other arm slipped around him, over his shoulder to drape across his chest and pull him tightly against the Turk's front.

"T--Tseng?" he stuttered, barely managing to keep his voice above an embarrassing squeak. He felt like a teenager all over again for Kami's sake. In front of him, both Elena and Shera were gaping in surprise, their eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement.

"Umm-hmm," Tseng murmured teasingly, sounding not the least bit like his normal self. "You guessed right."

Light brown eyes blinked. "Boss, have you been drinking?" Elena asked in a curious tone, a hint of something behind her words.

"Just a little," he responded, turning his face towards Sephiroth and rubbing his nose against the slightly paler flesh of the former General's throat. "You smell good," he added, speaking directly to his captive. Sephiroth could feel the tickle of Tseng's hair against the side of his neck and he unconsciously shivered. Why, oh why, wasn't he trying to get away?

"Um, thanks," Sephiroth responded tentatively, uncertain of what to do in such a situation. He inwardly cursed his lack of knowledge and his self-imposed celibacy that made every touch feel like electricity racing down his spine. And that damn hand wouldn't stop caressing his stomach, making his skin tingle. Was he supposed to encourage Tseng or push him away, he wondered, all the while wishing that Zack were there to help him. He felt completely out of his league, trying to balance on a beam of ice while juggling balls of fire.

Elena sighed and placed a hand to her forehead. "Tseng," she groaned. "I thought you were over this," she continued as she shook her head before shifting her eyes to Sephiroth, suddenly seeming very devilish. "We'll go get him some coffee and sober him up. Can you take him into a room so that he doesn't hurt himself?" she requested.

Sephiroth felt his face flush before he could stop it. "I... what?"

Shera smiled however and simply patted him on the shoulder before gesturing to the room just behind him. It was the one he suspected Tseng had emerged from. "Don't worry. I've heard he's a pleasant drunk at least. We'll be back quickly."

"But I..." Sephiroth trailed off as Tseng rubbed against his back, a self-conscious flush spreading across his cheekbones in a very embarrassing manner. His normally pale flesh began to take on a scarlet tinge.

"I promise," Elena assured him with a grin that did not seem the least bit heartening. "We'll be back before you can miss us." With her hands on Shera's shoulders, she skillfully steered the pregnant woman down the hall, leaving Sephiroth alone with Tseng. Suddenly, he was at a complete loss as to what he was supposed to do.

A tongue snaked out and licked around the curve of his ear. "I thought they would never leave," Tseng murmured, tracing the wet appendage around the shell.

The former General jumped in shock and skillfully eased out of Tseng's hold. As pleasurable as that felt, he didn't believe now was the time. "I think that you're just a little bit drunk, Tseng," Sephiroth stated, raising a slightly shaky hand to his head and brushing some hair out of his face.

"You're just saying that because Elena said it," Tseng responded, his voice dangerously close to pouting as he brushed down his white shirt, which had been untucked from his pants. Sephiroth hadn't been able to see before but he noticed it now. Tseng was dressed down, his pants hanging loosely from his hips and the top three buttons of his shirt undone, displaying a tanned collarbone. The former General's eyes seemed inexplicably drawn to that exposed flesh and he had to force himself to tear his gaze away.

Sephiroth sighed as his eyes flickered to the open doorway. "Maybe you should sit down," he suggested, gesturing towards the door. He was truly at a loss for options. "We'll wait on them to bring the coffee. I must ask you a question anyways."

"Oh?" Tseng raised a brow, sounding mildly interested. "What kind of question?"

He was leering, the damned Turk was practically leering at him, Sephiroth was sure of it. He never thought he would ever see such an expression on the usually stoic man's face. Then and there, Sephiroth made a vow to never drink so much himself. He had no urge to become so intoxicated that he no longer behaved rationally.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and grabbed Tseng's arm, directing him into the room. "I'll wait until you're sober," Sephiroth said as he flicked on the light, wondering why in the hell Tseng was drinking in the dark.

Tseng followed him inside as Sephiroth's eyes swept around the room, taking in the rumpled bed and the table with an almost empty bottle of some unidentified alcohol perched on it. Tseng's jacket was draped across the back of a chair. It truly looked as if he was hiding from something... or someone. Sephiroth frowned as he stepped towards the table, intent on examining the bottle to see what Tseng had been drinking.

"I'm not that drunk," the Wutaiian mumbled petulantly from behind him. His booted footsteps echoed on the floor as he stepped further into the room. Sephiroth was hyper aware of Tseng's presence, still able to feel the Turk's breath lingering on his skin.

Sephiroth's fingers wrapped around the bottle and he drew it closer, his eyes scanning the label. Vodka... and pretty strong stuff too, by the look of it. It wasn't that he really knew much about it. Again, Zack was more of an expert. He frowned in thought, wondering just how much of it Tseng had consumed and why.

Arms slid around him again while he was contemplating as Tseng pressed himself against Sephiroth's back. "We're finally alone," the Turk practically purred, his hands busying themselves by running all over Sephiroth's muscled abdomen.

Sephiroth swallowed thickly, a shiver spreading through his body. He turned around in Tseng's hold, feeling his ass pressed up against the table behind him. He had nowhere to go and reluctant to actually harm Tseng, he relented. Besides, there was a part of him that wanted it. The tingles racing across his skin and the definite arousal were all the proof that he needed. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he broke out into a fine sweat.

"Alone?" he repeated, brain going into overdrive.

Tseng hummed appreciatively as his hands settled on Sephiroth's hips. His silver eyes appeared to glow in the room as he leaned forward, nearly sharing the same breath as Sephiroth. "You know," he began, breath ghosting across Sephiroth's lips and causing the former General to unconsciously lick them. "You have really pretty eyes."

With that, Tseng closed the few millimeters of space between them and kissed Sephiroth, pressing their lips together. Sephiroth let out a muffled sound of surprise, but didn't push the man away. He relented to the feel of the soft lips against his and Tseng's tongue teased along the seam of his lips, encouraging him to open his mouth.

The Turk stepped forward, positioning himself between Sephiroth's legs and moving his hands until they were braced on the table on either side of the former General. Pushing closer, he let their lips slide together, wondering if this was perhaps the first time Sephiroth had ever kissed anyone. The moment Sephiroth parted his lips, Tseng's tongue slipped inside and gently coaxed Sephiroth's tongue to join him in the kiss.

Sephiroth's mind completely shut down, one hand landing on Tseng's hip and squeezing as if he needed something to hold onto. The other dangled limply and uselessly at his side, unsure of what he should do with it. A moan slipped from his lips, to be absorbed by Tseng's kiss before he could stop it. Tseng's tongue slid along his, caressing and consuming his thoughts with the taste of pure vodka.

One of the Turk's hands left the table, moving to slide around Sephiroth. It laid first on his back and then slid down until it rest on the curve, just above the swell of his ass. He pressed forward, nearly molding their bodies together. The rigid line of his arousal pressed onto the inside of Sephiroth's thigh, causing the General to freeze, his eyes popping open in surprise. Until Tseng's tongue swallowed him, continuing to kiss him, slowly but not without an element of need, a slight hint of desperate passion.

A groan escaped his lips before he could stop it, muffled by Tseng's mouth but present nonetheless as his heart beat a rapid rhythm in his chest. How often, when he was the man before Nibelheim, had he wondered about this? How often had he found himself daring to dream of better things than nightmares, things that involved lips and tongue and especially with the man presently before him?

It seemed very much like a dream and Sephiroth feared that it was. Because men like him weren't supposed to celebrate the success of imaginings. He wondered when lightning was going to strike, or the world to shake, anything that would put a stop to him receiving what he had always wanted. Tseng's mouth was soft and warm, sending every nerve in his body on edge. His thoughts seemed to be limited to one word, 'more', yet, on the periphery of his senses, rationality lingered.

Not only was Tseng just a bit drunk, but there was a war going on just beyond those four walls. And that was when Sephiroth realized this was his terrible event, that something such as this would happen when it _couldn't. _Because there was a war, people were dying, and Zack! How could he forget about his best friend lying in an undetermined coma just several floors above him! He didn't deserve such rewards.

With much reluctance, Sephiroth raised his hands to Tseng's shoulders and gently gave him a push, to put some distance between them. He panted softly, as silver eyes raised to his. "We can't do this," the former General whispered, wishing he didn't feel so much like a virginal schoolgirl even if it was half-true.

The Turk blinked at him as he allowed a few inches of space between them, backing up but not truly far enough to put Sephiroth's spiraling thoughts back on balance. "Why not?"

"Because you're drunk," Sephiroth explained as he lowered his eyes, feeling as if he were being drawn in by Tseng's silver orbs. He sighed, "And Zack is--"

"What about Zack?" Tseng interrupted, a strange note to his voice. "You're not lovers," he protested stubbornly, licking his lips as if to recover all lingering traces of Sephiroth's taste.

He felt the force of the blush creeping into his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to fight it back. "No, but..." he paused and took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the situation. "Maybe we should skip the coffee and go straight to a Heal." In an effort to educate Sephiroth, Zack had once informed him that inebriation could be cured with a Heal. Of course, at the time Zack himself was suffering from a severe hangover and they were about to go on a mission. It was somewhat of a necessity that he be clear-headed.

"Then I don't see why not," Tseng stated as if that made all the sense in the world, pressing closer and shortening the small distance Sephiroth had made. It felt as if heat was radiating from his body, enfolding around Sephiroth and wrapping him in an cloak of desire. "I like you. I've liked you for a long time."

Sephiroth felt a strange flutter in his heart at those words. "It-- it's just not a good time," he whispered, already feeling his restraint fading away. He wanted to give in, he honestly did.

Those pale pink lips approached him again, fingers stroking along Sephiroth's spine in an arousing fashion. He arched into the touch subconsciously as Tseng pressed closer, practically leaning the former General backwards across the table. Why couldn't Sephiroth seem to form a coherent thought? By the gods he wanted to surrender.

"You are not attracted to me?" Tseng whispered, his breath a warm puff against Sephiroth's lips. His tone was thick with need, silver eyes darkening with desire and a certain level of clarity. If Sephiroth hadn't been so drunk by the new sensations, he might have noticed.

A low groan escaped Sephiroth before he could stop it. "Th-- that's not what I said," he admitted desperately, not wanting Tseng to misunderstand. And was that his voice stuttering like a horny teenager? "I-- I am." His resistance was beginning to crumple if there was even anything left of it at all.

"Good," Tseng purred before finally closing that millimeter of distance between them and kissing him once more. The Turk's tongue slipped into Sephiroth's mouth, a bit more dominating this time, a bit more needy, as he pulled their hips together. He began a slow grind, wanting Sephiroth to know just how badly he had been wanting to do such a thing.

The slightly taller man released a sound that was a cross between a whimper and a moan as one of his hands slid up to Tseng's hair, tangling in the long, dark strands. His other hand clutched at the table top, needing something to steady himself as a fire began a slow burn through his body. All those urges he had forced into dormancy began to awaken.

Sephiroth unconsciously pulled Tseng closer, losing himself to those wonderfully arousing kisses. He had never imagined that a true kiss would feel anything like that. He loved Zack dearly but this was nothing like that one pity liplock he had gotten so long ago. It just didn't seem right for a man's lips to be that soft, for his mouth to taste that damn good. He could see himself getting addicted to Tseng's taste and he couldn't help but wonder why he had put it off for so long.

Yet, he couldn't simply push aside the truth in the circumstances. With much reluctance, he somehow managed to pull together enough coherence to draw back from Tseng. He was panting slightly however, fighting against every urge to simply latch back onto those moistened lips.

"We shouldn't," he gasped, even though he really, really wanted to. Why was fate so against him that such a good thing would happen now when he couldn't let it?

Silver eyes gleamed with desire as they regarded him thoughtfully. Inwardly, Tseng was arguing with himself. He needed it; he needed _something._ All of the memories and such from Sephiroth were still lingering in his mind and he had run out of alcohol long before it dulled the pain. There was nothing left to drown it out. But... he had chased after Sephiroth far too long to ruin anything.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, sounding surprisingly sober. He raised his other hand to pluck out the hem of Sephiroth's shirt and slide his fingers beneath the fabric. "Don't think about what we should or can do. All that matters is this second." Immediately, he encountered warm, soft skin and he glided the exploring digits and his palm smoothly over a shuddering abdomen. Sephiroth sucked in a sharp breath as Tseng repeated, "What do you want?"

The former General hesitated, the words on the tip of his tongue to agree. Until his eyes shifted past Tseng to the doorway. His entire body seized up, freezing over completely as his eyes widened in unrestrained shock. A warm blush spread across his cheeks, almost turning his face brighter than Reno's hair.

Feeling pretty certain that he knew who was behind him, Tseng reluctantly released his hold on Sephiroth. He hadn't even heard the damn door open. He turned around, irritation causing his eyebrows to twitch. Sure enough, Elena was standing in the doorway, a coffee pot in one hand and a cup dangling from the other. The brown pot steamed, bringing with it the sharp scent of coffee.

"That was fast," Tseng commented, not at all embarrassed by the situation. Behind him, Sephiroth made a strange sound which could have been a squeak if he were any other man.

Elena regarded her boss with some amusement before gesturing to him with the pot, liquid sloshing about inside. "I'm wondering if this coffee is going to be enough," she said, cocking her hip to the side. Her eyes flickered briefly past him, landing on the furiously blushing Sephiroth. It was rather cute.

"My thoughts exactly," Sephiroth gasped out, sliding out from in front of the table and easing his way free of Tseng's hold. "I'll just go get that Heal materia," he finished, blushing furiously. He basically fled from the room, leaving the two Turks alone.

Once he was gone, Tseng turned away from his subordinate and rubbed a hand across his brow. He took several deep breaths to calm the raging arousal in his pants, inwardly cursing circumstance and his own foolishness. Of course, he didn't spare Elena in the slightest either. He had been so close, so damned close.

"No, you weren't," Elena stated as if she had read his mind when she finished entering the room, shutting the door behind her with a bump of her hip. "You're not that drunk." She moved to stand beside him, setting the cup and pot down on the table. Her eyes flickered to the alcohol, which had fallen over and rolled on its side. "There wasn't that much in the bottle to begin with."

The Turk commander reached for his shirt, redoing the buttons that had been undone and making himself look more presentable. "Just drunk enough not to give a damn," he muttered.

The blonde sighed. "And what did you think you were doing?"

Tseng shifted towards her, raking a hand through his hair and resituating the disturbed strands. He half-imagined he could still feel Sephiroth's fingers entangling them. "Following your advice," he remarked with a bit of sarcasm.

She threw up her hands in exasperation, stalking over to the other side of the room where she plopped herself down in a chair. "Now you listen to me!" she declared with some vexation. As Tseng poured himself a cup of the coffee and slowly sipped at it, she leaned back in her seat, eyeing him. "Why were you drinking?" she asked, already having half an idea as to the answer.

The older man's hand paused halfway to his mouth, mid-sip. "Why do I ever drink?"

It seemed she hadn't been so far from the truth. "Why don't you try listening to them for once, Tseng?" she suggested. "Or at least talk to Aeris. You have that in common."

Tseng shook his head. "That wasn't it this time."

Elena frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember current events. Something would have had to set her boss off then... her eyes widened in sudden recollection. "Sephiroth?" she questioned disbelievingly, recalling what had happened in the conference room. After she had fled the premises, it was only later that she realized Tseng had not left with the others. He had been acting rather strangely.

The dark-haired male nodded, his eyes lowering and taking on a dark glint as he swallowed thickly. "I don't know what happened to him in the past but I received enough feedback from what ever he was going through that I have a pretty clear impression that it was something no child should ever have to endure. I couldn't block it no matter how hard I tried." He paused, wincing as an arc of pain raced across his head, the price of trying to block it out. "I couldn't understand most of it but... the emotions were enough." They were more than he thought he knew how to deal with.

"And you thought the alcohol would help, as usual?" Elena asked, eyeing him curiously.

"If there's enough, it drowns them out, mutes all the flashing images and voices but..." Tseng trailed off, a slight shudder running through his body as he sipped at the coffee. He didn't know if there was enough alcohol in the world. Perhaps it was just fall-out from Sephiroth's panic attack... but he felt tainted, dirtied... ashamed of himself. Even if he hadn't done anything.

The female sighed as she shook her head. "You idiot," Elena snorted. She paused then, tilting her head to the side as she recalled Sephiroth's expression as he literally fled out the door. It was both a mix of embarrassment and desperate need.

She propped one hand on her chin, her elbow resting on her knee as a slow smirk spread across her lips. "Then again... maybe not." In her mind, she knew that with only a bit more prodding, she could get the two together. Her plans were coming together perfectly.

Meanwhile, a good bit down the hall and hurrying faster than his pride thought respectable, Sephiroth was thinking along completely different lines of thought. He took deep breaths, trying to control himself and soothe down the rampantly running libido.

He had nearly given in. If Elena had never shown up... Sephiroth didn't know how far he would have ended up taking things. But one kiss from the Turk and he had been lost, floating in a sea of desire and desperately seeking more. Of what, he had no clue, he just knew he had to have it. He wanted something. He wanted everything. And it was wrong because he wasn't supposed to ask for privileges or rewards, he wasn't supposed to be allowed to see his dreams come true. Not for men like him.

Men that Jenova most likely still had her grip on. He didn't want to pull Tseng into that web, into the madness of his life. The Turk had enough to deal with without Sephiroth adding his problems onto him. It wouldn't be fair.

With a final, resigned sigh, Sephiroth swallowed down any lingering traces of desire and immediately turned his thoughts onto more pressing matters. Such as finding the Heal so that he could cure Tseng and ask the man a rather difficult favor. And if he recalled correctly, Nanaki and Reno had been the ones to carry the small, restorative material.

Loath to disturb the somewhat volatile Reno, he decided that Nanaki would be his best bet. And in his earlier search, he had passed by both the demi-human and Archer heading to the kitchen. With that in mind, Sephiroth stopped and backtracked a little, heading to a hall he had passed in his earlier haste to simply get away. He only hoped that they were still there, otherwise he would be stuck hunting down yet more of his so-called crew.

Minutes later found him stepping inside the kitchen, which was actually warm and pleasantly scented. It was mostly deserted, understandable given that it was approaching midnight, but he could plainly see Archer and Nanaki standing at one of the counters, their backs to him. He wasn't sure what they were doing, but the demi-human's tail was twitching noticeably. Strange how he had never really paid attention to it before.

He cleared his throat to get their attention as he crossed the floor towards them. And when they turned, their eyes widened before they exchanged glances.

"Sephiroth," Archer greeted, a strange note to his voice as he cast the other man an odd glance. "Were you looking for us?" One eyebrow twitched as amethyst orbs took in Sephiroth's appearance.

Normally perfectly composed, the former General's streaked hair was in complete disarray and one side of his shirt was untucked. His lips were swollen and slightly glistening, and lingering traces of a red blush were slowly fading from his high cheekbones. Plainly put, he looked as if he had just emerged from a mob of groping hands.

Sephiroth nodded at Archer's question, still feeling somewhat off from his whole encounter. His veins thrummed in his body. "Could I borrow your Heal materia, Nanaki?"

The demi-human blinked at him before nodding, putting down a knife that Sephiroth belatedly noticed he was holding. "Sure," he agreed, reaching with his free hand for his armlet where he kept the Heal. As he did, his eyes slid to Archer who was preparing to slap mustard on the sandwiches. "No, don't do that," he inserted hastily, bopping the other man with his elbow to prove his point as he picked out the small green sphere.

"Yuffie hates mustard."

Archer chuckled lightly. "Know her that well, do you?" he teased, winking at Nanaki who dipped his head, trying to hide a faint blush. Amethyst eyes then flicked towards Sephiroth. "Is everything all right?" After all, it wasn't often that Sephiroth came asking them for a restorative materia.

Unconsciously licking his lips as memories attacked him one right after the other, Sephiroth was forced to look away from the surprisingly probing stare. "Yes. Tseng just... had a bit too much to drink."

The engineer's brows rose nearly to his hairline as he reached for the stacks of yellow cheese without even looking. He was much more interested in Sephiroth's current state. "Any idea why?" he asked while Nanaki tossed the Heal materia towards their leader.

"He was thirsty?" Sephiroth suggested on a mumble as he nimbly plucked the green sphere from the air and slipped it into his pocket. "Thank you, Nanaki."

"No problem," the demi-human chimed as he returned to Archer's side, slapping the lunchmeat on the sandwiches and finishing them up. Behind them, Sephiroth turned and left without so much as a 'goodbye', his boots clomping on the tiles and quickly growing faint.

The two men left in the kitchen exchanged glances. "He went from having a panic attack to looking like he was mugged," Nanaki commented as he reached for a plate and piled the sandwiches onto it. His tail swished behind him.

Archer smirked as he slid past Nanaki and opened up the fridge, grabbing up two bottles of water and two bottles of some unknown type of juice, he suspected Rabluberry. "Or laid," he suggested.

The demi-human raised a brow. "Interesting. Very interesting." He held up the plate. "Now let's get these back before two ravenous females skin us alive."

Archer laughed, already heading for the door. "Wise choice, my friend. A very wise choice indeed."

* * *

He stood outside of the door, feeling both incredibly stupid and slightly nervous. Strange how easy it was for conflicting emotions to reside inside him. He didn't know whether to turn and run, or curse himself for his foolishness. The door itself wasn't intimidating, but the man inside, and his delicious tongue were. He wanted to go in but he didn't. It was quite the quandary. 

An amused chuckle teased along the edges of his mind. 'A man of your strength, intimidated by a little kiss?' Gilgamesh mocked in his usual teasing tone, which Sephiroth had found himself quickly growing to dislike. 'Truly you are just a child.'

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. "Don't ridicule me," he hissed, shooting ocular fire at his anima. He hadn't even realized he could do that in his mind until that moment. "I am going in," he countered somewhat testily.

And just to prove the deity wrong, Sephiroth promptly raised his hand and knocked. After all, Elena was in there, wasn't she? There wasn't much Tseng would do with his subordinate standing right there. At least, that was what Sephiroth hoped. Gilgamesh just laughed all the louder, noticing that his animus had not denied being anxious, though he didn't comment again.

The door slid open seconds later, revealing Elena's face. She smiled when she saw Sephiroth, though it was more of a devious smirk. "We're in luck," she declared as she held the door open and gestured him inside. "The coffee seemed to be enough. He's perfectly sober now."

Sephiroth nodded, swallowing down any traces of nervousness, and stepped inside. Tseng was sitting on the bed, seemingly glaring at the ground as he sipped on a cup of coffee. He no longer looked as if he wanted to ravish Sephiroth before he could take two steps. The former General didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. Had the attraction only been the alcohol?

"You wanted to speak to me?" Tseng asked, without even looking up from the mug.

"Yes." He left it at that and the tension in the room went up another notch until it was nearly palatable. It left a strange taste in Sephiroth's mouth, a tension that was a combination of both sex and trepidation.

From the door, brown eyes darted between them before Elena groaned and shook her head. "You two are hopeless," she declared, startling both of them from their staring contests with the floor (Tseng) and the wall (Sephiroth). "And here I thought you had made some progress." When the eyes of both, mature and grown adults turned to look at her, slightly perplexed, she waved them off. "I'm going to see if Shera's found Rude yet and peek in on Zack. I'll catch you later, Tseng."

With that, she sauntered out of the room, the door closing with a quiet click behind her that sounded all too loud in the tensional silence of the room. Especially to Sephiroth. He wasn't any good at this.

Tseng sighed, an annoyed, blustery sound as his subordinate finally made herself scarce. "She never stops," he muttered, somewhat to himself. He sipped at the coffee, swallowing down the bitter taste of the black liquid.

Feeling incredibly awkward, Sephiroth wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or say next. He shifted uncomfortably in his stance, cursing as he heard Gilgamesh laughing at him in the back of his mind. His eyes flickered to Tseng briefly, remarking at how quickly the man sobered up. He had only been gone for twenty minutes at the most unless...

Tseng rose to his feet suddenly, distracting Sephiroth's thoughts as he turned towards the former General, his face back to that unreadable, impassive mask. He set the coffee cup on the table with a slight clunk, the cup only about half-empty. It was mostly for appearances sake anyways.

"I won't ask about what happened in the conference room," Tseng began slowly, his gaze carefully noting Sephiroth's attempts to hide the sudden stiffening of his body at the reminder. "That's not my place or my right."

Sephiroth struggled to regain control at the statement that seemed pulled out of nowhere. "Very well," he replied, uncertain where this game was heading since that's exactly what it seemed to be, some sort of speaking game where they said everything they wanted to say without using the right words. "I suppose in return you don't want me asking about the alcohol."

The Turk commander flinched visibly before he could clamp down on it. "It's not important anyways."

"I see," Sephiroth responded, shifting again.

'You _are_ terrible at this,' Gilgamesh chuckled in the back of his mind. 'And you're doing a wonderful job of skirting around every issue of importance.'

Indignation flared up before he could stop it. (Quiet!) Sephiroth hissed inwardly. (If you don't have anything useful to say, then just don't say anything at all.)

Gilgamesh merely laughed again but did disappear into the background. 'I'll just watch the show from here,' he murmured, sitting quietly in the far area of Sephiroth's thoughts, leaving his presence a very faint trace.

Biting back another sharp reply that would have been superfluous, Sephiroth decided to just dive right in. The situation couldn't get any more tense, after all. "I need you to use your abilities, Tseng," he finally requested.

The Turk immediately whirled to face him, his mouth slackening with surprise. "Pardon?" he asked, blinking. "Could you repeat yourself? Because I don't think I heard you right."

Sephiroth regarded him levelly, wondering if perhaps that might have been the wrong method. Too late to go back now. "We need to find Balaam," he explained. "None of the other anima can locate him because he is cloaking his aura from them. You're the only one that can. And before you ask, no, Valentine can't sense him either."

Tseng's jaw set rigidly. "Have you conveniently forgotten that I can't use them?" he demanded sharply, a cold trickle of fear racing down his spine. Of all people, Sephiroth was the last he expected to demand something like this from him.

"It's not that you can't but you won't," Sephiroth retorted and Tseng glared, in his eyes a mix of fear and apprehension. He sighed and amended his words. "Gilgamesh tells me that your other, your anima, could help you control them, if you would only let him."

The Turk stared. "You don't understand what you are asking of me," Tseng said after a moment. He turned away from Sephiroth and reached for his abandoned coffee cup, needing something to hold on to. "I can't just push aside years of building up walls."

Sephiroth shifted where he stood, a frown beginning to mar his features. "Have you even tried?" he coaxed. "Because if not, then this world might as well start sending in its last prayers. We can't stop Balaam if we don't know where he is."

"Oh, no pressure," Tseng sniped, silver eyes flashing. "Either I turn into a screaming wreck or the world goes to shit. What a choice."

Green-grey eyes narrowed as annoyance gradually swelled. "If there was anything else I could have done, I would do it," Sephiroth returned. "But there's not, Tseng."

The Turk shook his head, feeling his body begin to trembled as he sipped at the coffee cup, though he doubted the caffeine would ease his nerves. Already he could hear the whispers in the back of his mind, the tears and the pleas. He could see images of lives he hadn't lived, hear the low murmur of someone elses' conversation. It was too much. Fear gripped him.

"I can't," he responded, barely above a whisper. "I just... I _can't_."

Sephiroth stared at his back, his gaze raking over the lines of tension yet he gritted his teeth nonetheless. "You would rather we all die? Is that it, Tseng?" he demanded, hands beginning to steadily clench and unclench at his sides. He wasn't willing to accept that it would end just like that. "You want to give up now and wait for death to claim us?"

"That's not what I said!" Tseng snarled, whirling around and sloshing coffee all over the place. Black liquid splattered to the floor but he ignored it, squeezing the cup so tightly that it almost cracked. "I'm telling--"

"What?" Sephiroth interjected, cutting him off as he took a step forward. "If you're not even going to try than there's no point in hoping for anything else." He slashed a hand through the air, an irrational anger with the stubborn man burning through his veins.

"I can't!" Tseng roared, a bit of anguish and fear peeking through in his voice. All measure of calm vanished as silver eyes darted around as though he were looking for an escape. "I can't control them! I can't even fucking listen to them! You don't know what it's like!"

Jade eyes flashed. "I don't know what its like?" he repeated frostily. "Have you forgotten who I am?" Sephiroth clenched his teeth, turning violently away from the Turk as his body began to tremble without his consent. His own memories were beginning to crop up inside of him.

"You're not the only one! My madness destroyed Cloud's home and tried to kill you. My madness is barely under my control. I fear every damn moment I am here that I might lose my tenuous grip on sanity. But at least I'm trying. At least I'm not a coward!" The last was punctuated by the sound of Sephiroth's fist slamming into the wall, splintering the concrete as easily as if it were mere cardboard.

He yanked open the door, jerking it open and storming outside before Tseng could even say another word, slamming it in his wake. The Turk blinked, his breathing ragged as he tried to control his surging emotions. The coffee cup crashed to the floor, falling from nerveless fingers as he struggled to find his breath. Widened eyes stared unseeing at the far wall.

Sephiroth was right, dammit. And Tseng had been trying to deny it. Yes, he was scared. Yes, he didn't even want to try. It wasn't that easy, to push aside all his efforts to conceal something as strange as his abilities. Lingering memories of his mother were constantly raging in his mind. He feared that if he even dared let go of his own tenuous hold, that nothing would ever be the same again.

He could still hear echoes of their accusations in his ears, could still recall his mother's weeping and the dead look in her eyes. He would never forget what it felt like to be alone, forever marked by the damn jewel on his forehead he refused to remove. The old echoes would never fade, and he felt like he would never stop seeing himself in a broken mirror.

Yet, without him, there was little chance of locating Balaam. The world would fall to ruin because of his cowardice. Could he live with that on his conscience? Would he even be alive to regret his mistakes or Balaam quickly slay them all on principle alone?

He could already feel them, the million voices screaming in terror and pain, wondering what they had done to suffer their cruel fate. His head rang and Tseng winced as his knees buckled, hands automatically pressed to his temples as if to hold his shattering head together.

'I would help you, my animus, if you would but let me.' The voice slithered into his mind, taking advantage of his moment of weakness. It was deep and resonant, irretrievably kind, but the pain it always brought, the fear, made Tseng feel as if he were speaking with a demon.

He gritted his teeth and tried to force himself to stand up straight, shutting his eyes against the slow throb. "No," he denied, though he could already feel himself caving. What was one more insanity? What was one more pain?

Yet, the voice refused to leave this time. 'You know me,' the demi-deity continued. 'When the shadows spoke, where did you turn for comfort, Tseng? When your mother passed... who did you whisper your fears to?'

The Turk's mouth went dry as he stiffened, memories stalking his mind and invading every shadow quickly. Alone... he had always been alone except for his one comfort, the one item he had never been able to get rid of. The ratty old toy had been his treasure, despite the fact that it was missing one eyes and the stuffing kept trying to emerge from stitches Tseng just couldn't ever fix well enough.

'I've always been closer than you think,' his animus finished, tone gentle and soothing.

Tseng inhaled swiftly, not even realizing he hadn't breathed. "O--Orthrus?" he whispered, voice barely able to be discerned as a question.

Something surged through the room, a burst of power that emerged as a gust of wind, fluttering across Tseng's face. "That's right," a voice announced, the same tone as the one in his head.

The Turk opened his eyes, getting his first glimpse of the demi-deity that had claimed to be able to help him. Dark hair, grey robes, a spell-caster's build... but it was in the eyes that he found the most recognition. Dark eyes, blacker than coal and darker than night, locked on him. And that same feeling of calm, the strange aura that his stuffed animal always seemed to radiate when he needed comfort was there.

He had had it with him all along. And all Tseng could do was gape.

"It took you long enough," Orthrus said with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at his animus. "I thought I was going to have to watch the battle from the sideline."

The human swallowed thickly. "I didn't want it," he responded quietly, a subtle trembling beginning to radiate throughout his entire body. "My whole life... all I could do was hide it and push it aside." He shook his head, dark hair swinging into his face. "I didn't want to be like her."

Orthrus' harsh gaze softened at the helpless expression that came over his other's face. "I know," he replied gently. "I was there the entire time, watching but unable to do anything. It is our law. Until we are acknowledged, we must stand idly by." He frowned slightly. "It is one of many that I am beginning to disagree with."

Tseng shifted uncomfortably on the floor. "You said you would help me?" he asked, somewhat tentatively. "Because I can never understand them. And Sephiroth was right."

The demi-deity nodded. "It's all a matter of instinct really. You've spent so long trying to block them out that they are garbled because of it. Once you actually open your senses and actively seek out your ability, they should come easily... perhaps too easily. You have to be careful."

It seemed simple enough. Tseng nodded as he listened, chewing his bottom lip in thought as was becoming a bad habit for him to do. His eyes wandered to the floor as he began to concentrate, for once in his life poking at the small throb of voices at the base of his skull, the dull roar of a constant litany of voices that was always present but he ignored. He did so somewhat tentatively, half-afraid of the pain that he knew would come as well as the consequences.

It was irrational, that belief that his ancestors would burst out of some corner the minute he did and declare him a witch. Then again, what more could they do that they hadn't already done. He could never return to his homeland... his parents were dead. He had spent most of his life denying a part of himself to simply remain anonymous. All that could be taken was his family, the Turks, and they seemed quite determined to stay.

Tseng took a deep breath, that knowledge made it easier, and closed his eyes. Orthrus' explanation washed over him as he gradually, and ever so slowly began to expand his senses. The walls he had built up began to crumble into pieces, dust carried away on the wind to leave behind this rhythm and rock of noise. He dimly felt a pulse of something echo around the room, power or something, the Turk commander couldn't quite be sure.

And then he heard them, first quiet and mumbled, indistinct and hazy as they had sounded when lingering at the edge of his conscious. Blurry faces joined each tone and his head flared with a light pain, but it was not something he couldn't handle. Gritting his teeth, Tseng clenched his hands at his sides and probed with his powers once more, each word and face gradually coming into view.

There were so many of them though. Literally thousands of people and their words, cycling through his brain faster than he could latch onto them. Complaints, expressions of love, quiet murmurings, soulful cries of anguish, each murmured or shouted phrase was another fan to the fire, another strike of the hammer to add to the pounding in his brain. But Tseng was determined to endure it. They couldn't win this battle unless they knew where Balaam was.

Orthrus' presence was becoming little more than a vague outline on Tseng's senses as the Turk tried to concentrate on finding just one individual among the multitude. He focused on surges of power, on males, on anything that would leave him remotely close to the demi-deity. And then he felt it, a tiny blink of something that did not usually belong on Gaia. A feeling of presence that was far too ancient to be alive and then he knew, there could be only one that could make that feeling... a demi-deity. He felt the same radiating from Orthrus at his side.

The pain was beginning to escalate, from a dull throb to a radiating spike. His face burned, his skin tingled and crawled but that didn't stop him in the slightest. He was so close, even if he felt like his head was going to explode. His knees buckled beneath him, shaking for a few precious seconds before completely giving out on him and Tseng crumpled to the floor, only half-wondering why Orthrus hadn't caught him before concentrating solely on that pulse of presence.

Then he felt hands on his shoulders. "Tseng!" Orthrus demanded, his voice barely piercing the Turk's concentration. "Stop! You're taking on too much."

The Wutaiian panted and shook his head, refusing to even open his eyes lest he lose his tentative hold on that presence, that voice that was far too old. "No..." he managed to gasp out, feeling as if every breath was a struggle. A strange feeling of pressure settled on his chest. "I have to... find him."

He clenched his fingers, nails scraping against the floor. Somewhere to the south... a bit to the east... he centered in on that blip of tone, slightly mocking and condescending, filled to the brim with age. He deafened his ears to Orthrus attempting to make him stop. If he didn't find out now, he might not get another chance. More pain radiated through his mind and he gasped before could pull back, yet he was also unerringly latched on Balaam.

Only a few more seconds...

A tropical island, to the northeast of Mideel, a new place where the lifestream was welling up, Tseng was certain of it. His arms started to shake but pressed on nevertheless. He had never heard of this island, as far as he was aware it had no name. Then there! Like a clarion trumpet call he heard him, loud and clear as if he were speaking and standing right next to Tseng.

Something about... Apocalypto? That the seal was nearly broken? And Vincent? Tseng squinted, trying to ignore the knocking on his brain and the encroaching blackness. And then, as if sensing that someone was there, a strange look crossed over Balaam's face and he turned and stared, directly towards Tseng's invisible eyes. Dark orbs seemed full of madness, determined for destruction and a shiver of uncountable dread overtook Tseng, causing his body to shudder uncontrollably.

It all seemed lost in that moment, and he was filled with such a surge of hopelessness and despair that it made him grow nauseous. He lost what little control he had over his ability and spiraled, letting the approaching blackness take over his mind as his head throbbed. His last conscious realization was the sound of the door pounding and Orthrus repeatedly calling his name in a worried tone.

And then the darkness came.

* * *

A/N: Mwa ha ha! The master of the cliffhanger returns! Don't worry, the update will come soon! 


	69. Facing the End

**Chapter 69: Facing the End**

It wasn't until he was outside the door that Sephiroth started to feel some regret for the things he had said to Tseng. He had no right to demand anything of the Wutaiian and especially not to try and force him to do what he feared just so Sephiroth could save face. It was his problem and he shouldn't have tried to drag Tseng into it. Even if the Turk was their only way of finding Balaam. Sephiroth would just have to find another, even if it meant him staying up 24/7, flying over and over the land in the Highwind until he ran himself to death. It was his responsibility as leader after all.

"That went well," Gilgamesh suddenly commented, spiraling to existence in a whirl of crimson cloaks on the other side of the hallway. He crossed his arms over his massive chest as he smirked, regarding his anima with an amused stare.

Sephiroth scowled. "Shut up," he snarled, glaring fiercely as he leaned back against the closed door. He could hear nothing from within. "You didn't even lift a finger to help or offer the slightest line of advice."

"Why should I?" the demi-deity countered easily. "You were doing a damn fine job of sticking your foot in your mouth. It was too amusing for me to want to make you stop."

The former General felt the childish urge to roll his eyes. "Thanks for the help," he replied sarcastically. "This only makes one more thing that Barret can blame me for." He sighed heavily, placing on hand on his forehead and rubbing at the pulse that was beginning to build. A trickle of dread raced down his spine but he couldn't figure out why since there didn't seem to be any danger at the present moment.

"You are certain there is no other way to locate Balaam?"

Gilgamesh nodded, one hand dropping down to idly smooth a few wrinkles out of his clothing. "Whoever is shielding him is strong. I dread to think it is who I believe it is."

Great, more riddles. Sephiroth was beginning to grow tired of them. "And who would that be?" he growled, irritation starting to well up within him despite his best efforts to dampen it. Whose bright idea was it to bond him with an insufferable anima like Gilgamesh?

"There was a demi-deity once," Gilgamesh responded, looking slightly uncomfortable as his face darkened with the remembrance. "Very few remember her now and she is never spoken of. Only the eldest of us were there when it happened but..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Regardless, none of that matters now. Persephone was the goddess of Destruction, a distinctly powerful element. I don't know whether it was the magic that made her mad or something else, but Kami was forced to seal her away, siphon off half of her magic and split it between some of us. I took on the brunt of it and when the Bandragora were born, they took on what was remaining."

Sephiroth nodded as he listened in silence, though he was growing a bit confused. "If she was sealed away, then why do you think it's her?"

"Because the only other deities capable of creating such a strong barrier are either on our side or already defeated," Gilgamesh answered, but there was a strange note to his voice, one Sephiroth did not fail to miss.

"There's something else, isn't there?" the former General demanded suspiciously. For the first time since had met the demi-deity, he noticed that there was an uncomfortable look to the man's face. It was not unlike the one of guilt that had taken over Seiryu whenever he came by to check on Tuesti.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in annoyance as he stalked forward until he was standing directly before the other deity. "What aren't you telling us? What have you been hiding from me?"

The demi-deity shook his head, still maintaining his perfect composure. "It would only be hiding if we had no intention of telling you. We just didn't think it was important at the time because the possibilities were slim."

A pale hand slammed into the wall next to Gilgamesh's head as Sephiroth growled again, though he doubted the other male was intimidated by the slightest. But his nerves were raw and his heart was aching, not to mention he felt that he had royally fucked up. His patience was thin and skating over melting ice. It wouldn't take long before he fell in and drowned.

"You had better tell me now," Sephiroth insisted, his threat null compared to the power that Gilgamesh wielded. But he was beyond sensibility, feeling as if he was being taken the fool. Now he knew how Reno felt. It was as if these deities were just playing games with the lives of the mortals, and there was nothing that Sephiroth hated more than feeling as if he were being played with. It reminded him all too much of Hojo.

Gilgamesh's stare was equally hard. "Balaam found Persephone in the first rebellion. If he hadn't still been trying to decipher the seal, then that battle might have been so easily won. She was the mysterious power that he stumbled upon."

That was just fucking _great._

"What else are you hiding?" Sephiroth demanded, voice gone frosty and cold. "What else are you deities trying to keep from us? How much further are you going to use us until you are satisfied?" The last was punctuated by another slam of his fist on the wall. The low thump echoed hollowly in the hallway as Sephiroth's eyes flashed emerald fire, eerily similar to previous events.

The demi-deity flinched slightly before quickly regaining control. "We are not using you," he denied softly. "Nor is there anything else. I've told you everything."

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, not believing the other for a second. But before he could respond, a sudden burst of power distracted him, trickling on the edge of his senses. His head whipped back towards the door, the epicenter of the surge. A sudden worry for Tseng filled him to the core and he turned away from Gilgamesh, striding back towards the door.

He reached for the handle. "Tseng?" he called out, turning the knob and attempting to push it open. But he couldn't.

It was as if someone several times stronger than him was on the other side, keeping him from entering. The surge of power continued to grow, lashing and whipping at him from all sides as if it were a physical flog.

The worry graduated into fear. "Tseng!" he barked out again, louder this time.

He began to bang his fists on the door, wondering what on Gaia had happened in there. There was no response and the power was steadily climbing.

Clenching his jaw, Sephiroth tried shoving a shoulder into the door, attempting to force it open while he kept one handle on the knob, keeping it turned. He ignored Gilgamesh's queries as he was, at this point, quite through with speaking to any sort of demi-deity. He would sort that out later. Right now, his main concern was Tseng.

Bang! His shoulder slammed against the door again. Growling in frustration, Sephiroth reared back for one more try. He barreled his body into the door at the same moment that the strange press of magic faded as if to mock him for his concern. The door flew open and he stumbled inside, his usual balance the only thing keeping him from flying gracelessly to the floor.

Cursing under his breath, Sephiroth quickly scanned the room. Tseng was on the floor, looking for all intents and purposes dead, and a strange being that Sephiroth had never seen before was hovering over him. Though judging from the subtle treble of power still lingering in the air and the man's ageless eyes, Sephiroth could assume that he was a demi-deity. Not that it assured him in the slightest.

His eyes narrowed as he strode forward, grabbing the older man by the shoulder and jerking him back. "Get away from him," he hissed angrily before kneeling at Tseng's side, quickly feeling for a pulse. It was there, steady and strong. Perhaps the Turk had only passed out.

"Sephiroth!" Gilgamesh snapped, stepping quickly into the room. "That's Orthrus, Tseng's anima."

The former General shook his head as he inspected Tseng, noting that the man was at least breathing normally. "I don't care who he is. We don't want your help," he responded coldly before deciding it was best if he took Tseng to the infirmary. Perhaps someone there would know what to do better than he would. He quickly scooped the Wutaiian into his arms, surprised at how light the Turk actually felt in his hold.

"He over-exerted himself," Orthrus explained as Sephiroth moved past him, quickly falling into step behind the mortal. "He was trying to find Balaam, like you requested."

There was accusation in his tone that he failed to hide. But Orthrus felt he had good reason. He was Tseng's anima. He knew what the Turk was thinking... and failing Sephiroth had been one of his fears, even if he hadn't voiced it aloud. After having liked the man for so long, it was understandable.

Sephiroth's eyes dropped down to the unconscious man in his arms. "Did he succeed?" he asked quietly, tallying up yet another mistake onto his record. He was doing a damn fine job of destroying all that Cloud had left him to save. Not for the first time he questioned why it had been him to be made leader. It should have been left in Valentine's hands... or even Zack's. At least they were sane, or something closer to it than Sephiroth himself.

Somewhere in the chaos, Gilgamesh had disappeared, not that Sephiroth cared either way. His ears were momentarily for Orthrus alone. "I can't be sure," the demi-deity replied hesitantly. "But I would say yes. When he wakes up, he'll be able to tell you."

"Oh god, Tseng!" Elena's horrified tone immediately pulled Sephiroth from whatever strange state he had been locked in. He yanked his gaze away from Orthrus, immediately focusing on the blond who was stalking towards him with a stormy expression on her face. "What happened?"

The former General shook his head. "I don't know," he replied. "He was like this when I found him." He gestured towards Orthrus with a shrug of his shoulder and a sneer beginning to form on his usually expressionless exterior. "Why don't you ask the demi-deity? They seem to know a lot more than what they are telling."

Orthrus frowned, confusion marring his brow. "What on Gaia are you talking about, Sephiroth?" he asked as the three of them managed to squeeze onto one lift, Elena hurriedly pressing the button to the floor where the infirmary was located.

It jerked and rattled as it started to climb, squeaking the entire way. Sephiroth only hoped it would make it before deciding to break down. He didn't want to have to climb up several flights of stairs.

The female frowned. "Yes, I'd like to know, too," she insisted shortly, concern for her commander shortening her usual temperament.

"Persephone," a voice answered as the elevator came to a stop and emitted a low dong. The doors slid open, revealing Gilgamesh standing on the other side. It was he that had spoken.

"He speaks of Persephone," Gilgamesh continued, moving aside to let the others pass.

Orthrus raised a brow, lips pursing in thought. "I thought... Father told me that she was a myth," he responded in confusion.

"Well, he lied," Sephiroth snapped, fingers unconsciously tightening around Tseng. "Demi-deities seem to be rather good at that." He brushed past the two elders and hurried into the infirmary, stepping quickly through the open doorway.

Dark eyes turned towards Gilgamesh as Elena moved between them, hurrying to catch up to Sephiroth and the unconscious Tseng. "What's going on, Gilgamesh?" Orthrus asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why is he so angry and why are we talking about myths?"

The older deity sighed and shook his head. "We have become far too arrogant, Orthrus. But right now, the state of your animus is more important. What happened?" he queried as they crossed the threshold into the infirmary.

Before the God of Magic could respond, the sound of loud voices and frantic movement interrupted him. Both deities turned their attention to the events at hand. Sephiroth had laid Tseng on the bed before being pushed aside by several doctors, all quickly taking readings. Then, Elena had pulled Sephiroth aside and some of the others in the party had crowded around, all wondering the same thing.

"You all know that we have no other way of finding Balaam," Sephiroth was saying, a definite strain to his voice. He raked an aggravated hand through his hair, disarraying the already disturbed strands.

Elena glared at him. "You could have found another," she hissed, planting her hands on her hips, her fingers twitching to grab her shotgun. It didn't matter that she was trying to encourage Sephiroth and Tseng to get together. At the moment, she was pissed.

"What are you going to do if he doesn't wake up?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen," the former General asserted, his nostrils flaring with rising irritation and helplessness. He spread his hands. "And when I left, he said he wasn't going to do it."

The female Turk snorted as she crossed her arms over his chest. "I'm sure you said nothing that would get him riled either. The last thing he would want to do is drive you away, Sephiroth."

Mossy-grey eyes blinked at her in confusion, not quite understanding what she was getting at. "I did not force him to do anything," Sephiroth rebuffed, shaking his head. "You can't blame this on me." He had the sudden worry that everything was getting out of hand.

"Is that how the great General works then," Barret cut in from out of nowhere, leaving everyone to wonder just when he had shown up, "Ain't nothing your fault and you get off guilt-free? Must be nice not to have a conscience!"

"I know that the blame rests on me!" Sephiroth snapped, far sharper than he had intended and far louder than acceptable for an infirmary. "I'm not denying anything!"

Elena slashed a hand through the air, taking a step towards Sephiroth. "Then do something, Sephiroth! You're the only one that can!"

"I don't know what you want me to do!"

Crash!

Silence descended on the infirmary, broken only by the soft beeping of continuous machines in the background. Six pairs of eyes turned from the broken coffee cup, lying in shattered pieces on the ground, to Archer who was standing just behind everyone. Apparently, he had thrown the cup.

"We're all falling apart here!" he stated sharply. "You want Balaam to win? Is that it?" His demand echoed around the infirmary as he thrust a finger back towards the curtained off area where Reeve lay attached to several machines. "My best friend is in a coma and my other best friend has a chunk missing from his shoulder. Yuffie got her ass kicked--"

"--Hey!" The ninja interjected indignantly from her bed, but she was ignored.

"--Elena's lost Raijin and Zack is near to death, not to mention Cloud's sacrifice," Archer continued, reminding them of everything it seemed they had clearly forgotten in their petty need to place the blame. "Now, I don't know about you but my enemy is the one that caused the pain. Not Sephiroth and not each other!" His words echoed loudly around the infirmary, ringing true.

Amethyst eyes flickered across the room, glad to find that a few had the grace to look ashamed, most notably Barret. But Elena was chewing her lip in worry, while Sephiroth appeared as if he was trying to compose himself. Archer had the distinct and sudden realization that he might have just saved them all from another one of Sephiroth's strange and violent episodes.

"He's right." Tseng's voice pierced the heavy silence, sounding weary and worn, but nevertheless very conscious.

Brown eyes widened as Elena hurried to her commander's side. "Boss!" she exclaimed, relief evident in her tone. "You're awake."

"And alive," he responded somewhat dryly, though he grimaced as he spoke. "My head is killing me but it's nothing that won't pass. I'm glad to see that you all compose yourself in my absence."

The blond flushed before regaining her composure. "You scared me!" she retorted sharply. "We didn't know what happened and Sephiroth was being vague."

"It's not his fault," Orthrus cut in quietly, drawing all eyes towards him. "He didn't know anything to tell you, after all."

Elena's eyes slid towards Tseng, asking for a confirmation. The Wutaiian sighed and nodded as he sat up on the bed, irritably ripping out the needles and IV's the doctor's had stuck in him, ignoring their protests. He swung his feet around, obviously planning to rise.

"It's true," he replied, raking a hand through his disheveled hair and trying to put some order back into it. "I was a bit... reckless." He winced again, hearing the subtle pulse and throb of the voices and thoughts at the base of his skull. Now that he had broken the barrier... he knew he would always hear them. But it was a small price to pay and long overdue at that.

He shook his head, continuing, "But none of that matters anymore. Archer is right, I know where Balaam is and we haven't much time." He paused as he tried to remember the conversation that he had picked up, brow wrinkling in deep thought. "Balaam was talking about something, a device he called Apocalypto. I don't know what it was for but I received the impression it was something that stands up well to its name."

Elena tilted her head to the side, frowning slightly. "The name sounds familiar... as if I had run across it somewhere in Hojo's research. As far as I know, it was incomplete." She put a finger to her chin, trying to recall it. "Sion might know something more about it but he's all the way in Kalm with the rest of Midgar's refugees."

"It doesn't matter what it is," Sephiroth inserted quietly, staring at the floor as if it held all the answers he was seeking. "We just need to stop it... and Balaam as well."

Tseng nodded. "He's right. And Balaam is on an island... someplace where the lifestream wells up just northeast of Mideel."

Recognition dawned on the former General's features. "I know that island," he replied, his eyes cutting over to where his best friend still lay unconscious. "Zack told me he awoke there... that a new mako pool had been formed." He frowned slightly, considering their options. "It is best if we plan our attack for early morning then... at 0800 hours."

Elena looked to her watch, peering at the fact. "That's... a little over seven hours from now. You think we're ready?"

"Do you honestly think we can stand to wait any longer?" Archer countered wisely. "We don't know what Balaam is planning or anything about this Apocalypto. Who knows... any longer and it may be too late."

Sephiroth nodded. "Yes, I agree." His gaze slid to Orthrus and Gilgamesh, eyes narrowing slightly. "And it's time you told the rest of us about Persephone." He shifted position. "You said it is her barrier protecting Balaam... does that mean she has already been awakened?"

"Wait a minute," Nanaki interjected, holding up a clawed hand. He frowned. "I'm confused. Who is Persephone?"

Gilgamesh sighed, shooting his animus a stern glare. "She is one of the eldest deities that Kami created, sealed long ago by his own hand because of her madness. We fear that it is her power Balaam is using."

"She doesn't even need to be fully awakened for him to access her strength either," Tiamat explained, swirling into existence beside the other two deities. The beads in her multiple braids clacked softly as she shook her head. "And it requires a good deal of energy to break the seal."

"Energy," Nanaki mused aloud, one clawed hand on his chin before golden eyes suddenly widened in understanding. "The lifestream," he exclaimed. "That is the reason why he sought out an upwelling."

"You don't just fear it is her power," Orthrus suddenly cut in, his expression full of comprehension. "You know." Dark eyes raked over the elder demi-deities. "Persephone is missing from her sealing location, isn't she?"

Guilt was evident in both of the elder deity's eyes. "Yes, she is," Tiamat answered quietly. "For the past two weeks..."

A muttered curse escaped Sephiroth's lips as he raked a hand through his dyed hair. But before he could voice his words, Elena spoke for him, "And you didn't think we needed to know this?" she demanded, her tone tight with annoyance. "We've been fighting in this damn war, our friends have been losing their _lives_... is there anything else you've been keeping from us?"

"No, there is not," a voice announced from behind them, emerging from the curtained off area that hid Reeve's bed. Seiryu stepped from behind the sheet, Reis mere feet behind him and the look in his eyes was apologetic.

"We merely did not want to raise a panic," the dragon deity explained, exchanging a quick glance with Gilgamesh that none of the mortals were quite able to interpret.

Elena snorted. "A panic?" she demanded bitterly. Her hand flung out, directing their attention to the window. "We are fighting a war! There's not much more _panic_ we can get."

"All right, that's enough," Sephiroth suddenly cut in sharply, moving himself swiftly between the demi-deities and the mortals. His eyes hardened into a glare. "We aren't doing any good arguing over this. What's done is done. I don't like it anymore than you, Elena, but we really have no choice. We can't win without them."

Gilgamesh sighed. "It is regrettable that things have come to this," he murmured, crimson eyes rising to his animus. "I will inform the others of the plans and we will form a strategy as well." His gaze slid to the others and with a nod, the demi-deities promptly disappeared, leaving the mortals to their own.

A hand rubbed against the former General's forehead, feeling another one of his seemingly never-ending migraines coming on. Not for the first time he wondered if it might have been better if he had just stayed dead.

"We still leave at 0800," he announced before sliding his eyes over the group, noting the few that weren't present, particularly Vincent and Reno. "I'll tell Valentine about the plans but I wouldn't suggest notifying Reno. It is probably best if he stays here with Mr. Tuesti."

"I'm going," a voice announced from the doorway, sounding tired and strained but nonetheless present. Sephiroth turned towards the aperture, heaving a sigh when he saw the red-haired Turk standing there, defiance written into his features. "I'm going to fight and I dare you to stop me," Reno added, fingers clenching around the grip of the Electro Rod he had balanced on his right shoulder.

Mossy green eyes closed in defeat. "I wouldn't think to stop you," he responded quickly. "Consideration is all I was bearing in mind."

Reno nodded shortly as he stepped into the infirmary, passing through the multitude and heading immediately back to Reeve's side where Reis had been peering with interest through the curtain, watching the proceedings. "Good. Because Balaam and I have a few things to say to each other," he called over his shoulder before disappearing behind the sheet.

Sephiroth sighed and turned towards the others. Rude, he knew would want to stay behind with his wife and Barret as well. Which was good, he needed someone to stay and protect Fort Condor if Balaam attacked. Yuffie and Cid were staying behind as well, too injured to join the fight and Sephiroth was loathe to take along anyone who did not have an anima.

"Elena," he began, half-afraid that he was about to have his head bitten off. "I would like you to remain behind with Aeris."

Brown eyes widened in disbelief. "What?" she exclaimed, hands clenching into fists at her side. "Stay behind? But I want to--"

"--He's right," Tseng interjected, mulling over Sephiroth's decision. "You're still suffering from Raijin's loss and there's a possibility that Balaam might attack. You are needed here."

"B-but boss!" Elena cried, protesting. One firm look from her commander and she clamped down on the rest of her words. Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the floor telling herself that she absolutely was not pouting.

She only dimly heard Sephiroth dismiss the others, telling them to get some rest before meeting at the airship at the proper time. Elena was miffed about not being able to fight. Then a hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and she looked up to see Tseng standing right next to her.

"He didn't say it... but I know he wants you to watch over Zack for him," Tseng explained to her softly, gesturing to Sephiroth with his head.

Elena sighed in defeat, brown eyes watching the former general speak quietly with Nanaki about something. He definitely looked tired, dark circles forming under his eyes and a pinch of strain on his pretty features. He hadn't really rested since he had spent most of his time with Zack. He had also found a few moments to spare for Denzel as well. And despite all appearances, it was plainly obvious that guilt was weighing heavily on his heart.

She flicked a few stray strands of blond hair from her face. "Is he going to last the battle?" she asked, her eyes glancing back to her commander.

Tseng shrugged, looking a bit worn himself. "He had better. We're all counting on him."

Elena chewed her lip in thought before lowering her arms. "Fine, I'll stay without a fuss," she acquiesced before turning stern. "But you better come back alive. I don't want to hear of anymore sacrifices."

"I would appreciate the same," Sephiroth cut in quietly, suddenly appearing at the Turk's side. When the two looked to him in surprise, he ducked his head. "I'm sorry... but I was wondering if I could speak to Tseng for a moment?"

A teasing grin split the blonde's face before either man could get a word in edgewise. "Want to continue where you left off earlier then?" she questioned, cocking one hip to the side. If Sephiroth was going to leave her behind, then she was going to tease him for all he was worth. Fair was fair after all, and that blush was too precious.

A reddish flush danced across Sephiroth's cheekbones before he could stop it. "Actually, I just wanted to apologize," he managed to say without stuttering. That would have been the perfect embarrassment. Where was his General calm, the harsh, coldness that had been ingrained into him? Apparently it had flown out of the proverbial window since he had never felt so frazzled in his life.

Tseng raised a brow. "Apologize?" he repeated, slightly confused. Elena took that opportunity to slip away, planning on visiting Aeris and Shera to inform the two women about what was going to be happening next.

The former General nodded, his gaze unconsciously falling to the side. "Yes, for what I said earlier. I didn't mean to imply--"

The Turk shook his head, interrupting Sephiroth's apology. "Don't listen to them; it's not your fault." He shifted position slightly, well aware of the eyes that seemed to be staring at the two of them conversate. It was very disconcerting. Not to mention lingering memories of what had occurred between them less than an hour ago was threatening to turn his face a bright red.

"Perhaps not, but I had no business asking such things or even trying to place my burdens on you," Sephiroth responded with a shake of his head. "Cloud gave the responsibility to me and I must prove his trust in me."

Understanding flashed in silver eyes yet Tseng knew he didn't have the proper words to say to Sephiroth. Guilt of that magnitude was not something easily cured by a few choice phrases. Even if Tseng wanted to believe he was someone important enough to the other man that his thoughts would make a difference, he knew well enough that he wouldn't be sufficient.

Tseng sighed, causing the former General to finally raise his gaze and regard the Turk with some confusion. Pale hands raked through black hair. "Look... about what happened earlier," Tseng began, knowing it needed to be said. "I just wanted--"

"--Sephiroth! There you are! I've been looking for you!" Elmyra's voice interrupted Tseng as she hurried into the infirmary, a big smile on her face. "Denzel has been wondering when you were going to see him," she continued, not even seeming to notice the strange emotions flying about in the air.

Her hands wrapped around one of his arms and Sephiroth tried not to flinch too noticeably away, still unused to such personal contact. "I apologize," he said smoothly, directing his attention towards her. "I had almost forgotten."

"Well, you have time now, don't you?" she asked pleasantly, leaving Sephiroth to wonder where her apprehension in being around him had disappeared to. It was as if he had suddenly turned into a cuddly stuffed animal in her eyes.

Mossy grey eyes turned towards Tseng apologetically. "Of course," he replied, turning away from the Turk and allowing the woman to pull him from the infirmary.

Left behind, Tseng heaved an irritated sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. His timing was incredibly terrible, it seemed. He would have to wait until after the battle.

Provided they survived, of course.

* * *

Rain battered, harsh and heavy, against the metal hull of the Highwind as lightning crashed around, sparking up the early grey sky with white luminescence. The thunder was loud enough to cause the windows to rattle and in many ways, seemed fitting for the battle to come.

"A bright and sunny day would have been wrong in some way, I think," Vincent commented quietly from where he stood at the front of the Highwind, watching the scenery fly by at a rapid pace.

They were nearly at the island and he could feel it in the air, the tension becoming so thick that he could barely breathe. Those gathered to fight had spoken little, many spending their time pacing across the deck of the bridge or in Reno's case, distractedly tapping his Electro Rod on one shoulder. And the demi-deities had finally reappeared, scattering themselves in random positions aboard the Highwind.

Sephiroth shifted position, borrowed sword rattling quietly in its sheath as if reminding him of the foes he would soon be facing. "It almost doesn't seem natural," he responded, equally solemn. He glanced at Vincent from the corner of his eyes, never quite sure how he should act around the man.

Grey eyes narrowed slightly. "No, it doesn't." He tipped his head in thought, almost as if he were speaking with his anima. "As I thought... Pandemona is to blame."

"But I thought she was defeated at Icicle?"

Vincent shook his head, a sigh escaping him. "It appears not." He turned away from the window, a frown pulling at his lips. "Something is not right."

"Sir! We're flying over the island now!" the pilot called out from his position at the helm, cutting into their short conversation.

Drawn by that information, the others gathered around the closest window. They were unprepared for the sight. Where once had grown thick and verdant forest, now lay little more than a barren wasteland, barely visible through a dense, dreary fog. There didn't appear to be any sign of life, and certainly nothing similar to a tribe of people like Zack had described.

Nanaki sucked in a sharp breath. "Why would Balaam do this?" he questioned rhetorically, horrified by the sheer desolation beneath them.

Gilgamesh shook his head. "My son, what have you done?"

"Pilot, circle around and search for a landing site," Sephiroth ordered, turning swiftly away from the terrible scenery. It made his heart ache for a reason he could not quite understand.

"Yes, sir!"

The former General turned to the others, booted steps treading all too heavily in the tense silence as he crossed the open space of the bridge. "Weapons at the ready. Balaam most likely knows we are coming," he ordered smoothly, some of the restless anxiousness fading in face of doing what he knew best.

Crash!

The Highwind shuddered as it roughly reeled to the right, a deep enough tilt that a few of the crewmembers tumbled to the floor. The sound of another explosion echoed mere seconds after the first as the terrible sound of some sort of engine sputtering and then dying quickly followed. Sephiroth fought to keep his balance as panic started to spread through those in the bridge.

"Crew! Status!" he called out, staggering his way to the nearest console.

"It is Ifrit!" Tiamat yelled as another explosion rocked the airship and the Highwind careened down into a steep dive.

Nanaki darted towards the nearest console, now unmanned thanks to the crewmembers unfortunate collision with the floor at the first impact. "We've lost the left engine!" he announced, able to understand the simple diagram. Bright crimson blinking lights were a pretty clear indication that all was not well.

"And the tail has been snapped! It's barely hanging on!" came another damage report, this from a random crewmember.

Sephiroth cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth. There was no point in throwing a Barrier into the materia enhancer now... the airship was doomed to crash. He hoped Highwind wasn't too attached to the thing.

Another vicious explosion rocked the airship and Sephiroth stumbled, slamming into the nearest wall and smashing his head against the hardened metal. Pain radiated through his skull but he bore the throbbing as the smell of smoke began to filter into the airship. The lights flickered before going out, only to be replaced by blaring sirens and flashing orange and red emergency lights. It seemed that they had no choice now but to abandon ship.

"Everyone! Off the Highwind!" Sephiroth ordered, slashing a hand through the air as he struggled to a standing position. He peered with slightly bleary vision, attempting to discern the state of his team. The lady dragon had already grabbed both her animus and Reno while Valentine had disappeared along with Nanaki. He knew they could escape with the aid of the demi-deities but Cid's crew...

The Highwind jerked to the right and this time, Sephiroth caught the bright flare of a fireball striking the body of the ship from the window. A hand grabbed his elbow and Sephiroth whirled to find his animus directly beside him. "We're going, Sephiroth," his animus informed him. Before the former General could say a word, they promptly disappeared from the bridge of the airship...

... Only to reappear in the middle of the cleared wasteland they had spotted before, a short distance from the others in Sephiroth's team. Above them, a bright and deafening boom drew their attention as the Highwind turned into little more than a ball of flame, debris shooting off in all directions. Even the heavy rain was no match for the high rising blaze.

Vincent shook his head as he watched his lover's pride and joy dissolve into little more than a scorching scrap heap. "He's going to be pissed," the gunman murmured, well accustomed to Cid's moods. He could already imagine what the pilot would say.

"It couldn't be helped," Nanaki replied, adjusting the strap to his claw. His fingers twitched as he tightened the weapon. "I'm sure he'll understand. Besides, now that you're back, he can build the new one he once talked about."

A small smile tugged at the ex-Turk's face. "You're right," he replied before his expression darkened. "But the crew..."

"They're fine," Erebus responded, appearing in a swirl of dark cloaks at his animus' side. "Grandfather got them all out before it went down."

Nanaki raised a brow. "Grandfather?" he repeated. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific. We haven't all taken courses in deity ancestry."

"He means me, of course," Gilgamesh answered, striding towards them. The rest of their motley assortment of mortal and immortal alike gathered around, eyes alert for any sign of danger. It was rather difficult to see; however, the thick rain falling down in drenching sheets and a light mist beginning to envelop them.

Reno snorted, shaking his head to clear some of the water streaming out of his face. He balanced his useless weapon on his shoulder, knowing that in the dripping rain he didn't dare use the electricity.

"Oh look," he commented with a dull sneer. "Another trap."

Silver eyes shot him a look but before Tseng could even berate his subordinate an evil chuckle rose out of the mist, sounding as if it had surrounded them all. More than a dozen gazes whipped around as they drew into a tighter, more defensible position, weapons flying into their hands. Yet, they could discern nothing in the thick fog, except for the telltale noises of feet crunching across the barren rocks.

"I knew a little bird had spied on me," rasped a voice from the north of them, accompanying the terrifying laughter. "I'm surprised the backlash didn't kill you."

Beside Sephiroth, Tseng paled slightly, swallowing thickly as he recalled the pain involved in locating their enemy's position.

Reno stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Balaam," he growled, body trembling with the sudden desire to destroy. Just the sound of the demi-deity's voice was enough to remind him of his husband's precarious state. It filled him with anger, causing his blood to boil.

Sephiroth shot the Turk a glare, however, urging him to be silent. This was no time for reckless actions and not for the first time, he wondered if it was wise to bring Reno along. With Reeve in such a state, he didn't think he could count on the other man to operate rationally.

"This has gone on long enough, son," Gilgamesh called out firmly. "Surely you've learned by now that there's nothing to be gained by this."

"That's where you are wrong, father," Balaam hissed sharply. The mist curled thickly around their feet, making the ground nearly impossible to see. "There is everything to gain! My freedom, their punishment, and the shame of the faithful!"

Sephiroth peered into the haze, wishing he could see through the impenetrable fog as the sheer strength of his anima's sorrow was like a shockwave through his senses. It must have hurt terribly, to be forced to fight against one's own kin... not that Sephiroth would know the feeling.

"This is not the way, Balaam!" Tiamat cried, trying to reason with him. "Can't you see that all you are causing is destruction? Is that what you want?"

More laughter, from more than one voice bubbled up around them, cruel and mocking. It felt as if their small group was surrounded, making them unconsciously draw closer together. With their senses masked by the thick fog, they very much felt as if they were on unsteady ground.

There was a derisive snort. "What I want never seemed to matter, did it? But I thank you for falling into my trap. It makes it that much easier to watch you die!"

Reno growled angrily, eyes narrowing until they were little more than glowing mako slits. "Not if I stop you first!" he screamed, suddenly sprinting forward into the mist.

"Reno! Get back here!" Nanaki shouted, darting after the rampaging Turk. He had every intention of dragging the reckless man back to their group. If they were going to survive, they needed to stick together.

"No! Don't!" Sephiroth called only to grit his teeth in irritation as the two men disappeared in the fog. There was movement on the corner of his vision and he suddenly thrust out a hand. "No," he ordered, stopping Tseng before he could chase after the other two. "I can't afford to lose anymore in the mist."

Balaam laughed. "One, two, nine or twenty! Bring all you have in opposition of me but nothing can stand against her." Lightning crackled above them, momentarily blinding Sephiroth and his team before dark shapes suddenly began to appear in the fog surrounding them, indistinct but present nonetheless.

"Only minutes remain before Apocalypto is complete."

"Apocalypto," Sephiroth breathed, horror gripping his heart. He had nearly forgotten about it. "Tseng, can you find it... even in this fog?"

The Wutaiian's brow furrowed but he nodded nonetheless. "I am certain," he replied, fingers tightening around the hilt of one of his swords.

The former General nodded. "Good. I'm leaving it to you and Orthrus then." Mossy green eyes found silver orbs. "I'm counting on you."

"We'll blend with the mist," Orthrus murmured, laying one hand on his animus' shoulder. He exchanged glances with Tseng and before Sephiroth could murmur another word, the two promptly disappeared in front of his eyes. He knew they were there, able to feel their presence, but his sight was unable to distinguish their forms... a truly remarkable ability.

Sephiroth returned his attention to the approaching shapes as Vincent stepped up beside him. "I have the feeling more is going on than we are aware," the gunman stated.

The former General nodded. "On your guard--oomph!" He jerked backwards as some unknown weight barreled into him, his senses warning him far too late for the attack.

Grey eyes widened as Sephiroth disappeared from his sight, body rolling into the thick mist wrapped around that of another unidentified individual. "Sephiroth!" he called, already turning to follow.

Until a form stepped out of the fog, pausing directly in front of him and cutting him off. Archer drew to a halt behind him as Gilgamesh teleported away, presumably to find his animus.

"Oh, don't worry about him," came Balaam's mocking voice as his form gradually came into view, flanked by four other demi-deities, only two of which the former Turk recognized – Ifrit and Cactuar. "You should be more concerned with yourselves," he finished, the threat clear in his features.

The battle had begun.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I just have a few announcements for those that are interested. Venturing on over to my website and you'll find a few neat things. I have all of my AMVs posted and I also have a Fan Art page up now, displaying all of the art that I've been given, including lots for the Shattered Series. I'd love to receive more! Every chapter of Broken and Bonded Refrain now has the song available for listening and I've been slowly but surely spiffing up the site, making it more interesting. Go, sign my guest book, let me know what other things I could add to make it better. Thanks to everyone who reviewed for me. I appreciate all of them very much!


	70. Invulnerable Weakness

**Warning: This chapter is very fast-paced. Just a warning. The final battle consists of about twenty different people fighting each other so... be prepared for rapid conflict. Also, there is blood, battle, and gore. Not that you haven't seen it here before. **

**Chapter 70: Invulnerable Weakness**

She had a strange feeling. It wasn't something that she could explain, but it tugged at her heart and left her restless. Thus the reason Elena was pacing back and forth across the floor of Aeris' room, most likely annoying the grieving flower girl but she couldn't help it. She strongly wished she had been able to join the battle and being ordered to stay behind made her feel just this side of useless.

With a sigh, Elena turned on her heel and smoothly avoided a desk table, moving to cross the room once more. She was worried, concern tugging at every pore of her senses. A motley collection of former ShinRa and a few faithful demi-deities against Balaam, his cronies, and a nearly limitless power... she had right to be apprehensive. And she wasn't there! Who would watch Tseng's back? And Reno was so unstable. It seemed that they were all set for doom. She didn't want to believe it but she feared it were true.

"You're going to wear a hole in my floor if you continue your pacing," Aeris commented as the door to the bathroom opened and she emerged. The light went off with a click when the flower girl waddled out and shut the door behind her. She managed a weary smile before gently lowering herself down into a chair.

A smile tried to tug at the Turk's lips but it failed miserably. "I'm sorry," she replied, immediately drawing to a halt as she regarded the other weary female. "I can't help but be worried."

Aeris nodded. "I know." Her eyes fell to the floor and turned contemplative. "I feel it as well. Something is happening." One hand automatically rubbed across her belly, soothing the troubled motions of her unborn child. "Something they were not prepared for."

"Great," Elena muttered on the tail end of a sigh. She flopped down into a chair and propped her chin in the palm of one hand. "I wish I could be there."

"I'm sure Sephiroth had his reasons," Aeris murmured in return.

The Turk blew out an annoyed gust of air, wishing she could chase away the lingering feelings of emptiness that ached in her chest. "Yeah, but... this is boring and Tseng can't possibly survive without me to watch his back. He has the tendency to be careless."

A small laugh escaped Aeris before she could stop it. Elena raised her head in surprise, finding amusement breaking its way into the flower girl's expression. "You are beginning to sound a bit like Yuffie," she teased lightly, regarding the blonde Turk with the beginnings of a twinkle in her jade gaze.

Elena rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure if should take that as a compliment or an affront," she countered with a huff. "Either way, I am glad to see the return of a smile, even if it is only a small one." As if her words had been a trigger, the smile slowly faded, leaving nothing behind but the same strained and saddened expression as before.

"It will take time," Aeris replied quietly, feeling a sudden urge to return to her vigil at the window. "But someday, I will be able to think of him without tears filling my eyes." She laboriously rose to her feet and started across the floor.

Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open, loud enough to cause both women to jump and Elena to whirl towards the aperture. Garig, one of Neme's subordinates, stood in the doorway with a strange look on his face.

"It's Zack!" he announced, sounding slightly out of breath. "He woke up!"

Elena gasped, brown eyes widening in shock as she took a step forward. "W--what?" she repeated. "Zack?"

The burly man nodded exuberantly. "Just a few minutes ago. He opened his eyes, Miss Elena. The doctor says he appears to be absolutely fine."

Aeris turned towards the Turk. "Go," she urged, a bit of relief rushing through her. "I'll catch up to you in a minute."

Elena wasted no more time. She threw a 'thank you' over her shoulder as she rushed out of the room, letting Garig lead the way. The door remained wide open behind them. Aeris knew Elena and Zack would want a few minutes alone and decided to wait before making her own journey up to see him.

With that in mind, the flower girl headed to the window and looked out, though there wasn't much she could see. The thick rain obscured most of her vision and the dark, grey clouds weren't that inspiring either. She couldn't help but wonder how the others were faring.

And then Aeris felt it. The evidence of another presence, not her own and not that of her anima either. It was a subtle surge of power, a trickle of unfamiliar energy that surged into the room somewhere behind her. Her skin prickled at the strange sensation and an aura of _bloodlust_ tainted with despair filtered through her senses.

(It is Tifa,) Hephaestion whispered in her mind, stirring instantly. (I don't know why... but somehow she has found her way here. She seeks you.)

Jade eyes closed in both understanding and recognition. Though Aeris wasn't sure of the exact reason for any of Tifa's choices, she acknowledged that Tifa placed a lot of blame and hatred on her. 'Stay out of this battle, my other,' she responded. 'If there is even to be one... it is mine to fight.'

Hephaestion hummed in acquiescence before settling back down in her mind. He would leave it to her as she requested.

"We thought you were dead," Aeris commented aloud before turning around, one hand protectively on her abdomen. Her gaze instantly sought out the other female, standing half-hidden in the shadows. "I'm glad to see we were wrong."

There was a derisive snort as something flashed in the dim. "Save your pity," Tifa snapped coldly. "You never cared either way."

"You're wrong," the flower girl insisted. "I always thought of you as my friend."

Tifa laughed, but it was harsh and mocking, holding little amusement. "Didn't you ever wonder?" she hissed, stepping to the side though staying within the shadowy sections beyond the reach of the floor lamp. "Didn't you ever ask yourself why I would betray Cloud and the others?"

The flower girl's eyes softened. "Are you going to tell me?"

Her senses prickled again. Tifa was preparing some sort of magic, though she couldn't be sure which kind. Just in case, Aeris quickly weaved a protective barrier around herself, something defensible against magic. Thanks to her bond with Hephaestion, it would be undetectable to any others. Tifa would still believe she was unprotected.

The martial artist stepped into the light, one hand raised towards Aeris and revealing that she held a handgun in her fingers. "Would you even care?" she demanded, trembling slightly. Brown eyes narrowed as they glistened with someone unnamed emotion. "Would it even matter if you knew why I wasn't the woman everyone thought I was? Or why I turned to ShinRa of all people, the one organization I should have _hated_?"

A gasp escaped Aeris' mouth at the sight of the weapon. She never expected Tifa to use something like that. The other woman had always relied on her fists before, expressing her hatred for manmade weapons. Yet, Aeris could tell that something had changed in Tifa. Something more than the treachery that had seethed beneath the surface. It was as if she had finally snapped into lunacy.

"Yes, that's right," Tifa continued, not waiting for Aeris to respond to her earlier statement. Her face twisted into a derisive sneer, seeping away all beauty. "You're surprised to see a gun in my hand but you know... you shouldn't be since you never really knew me at all... did you?"

Aeris shook her head. "Were we ever really your friends, Tifa?" she questioned, unconsciously strengthening the barrier around her body. Fear for her child spurred her on, as Midori grew a little restless. _Cloud... give me strength. _

"Did you ever even care for Cloud or was that nothing more than an act as well?"

For the briefest of seconds, something painful and soft flashed through Tifa's brown eyes. Her resolve to kill wavered, her face losing a bit of its hard edge before it suddenly firmed again and she set her jaw. "No matter what I did, Cloud always loved you more! When you were gone, he wasted no time in chasing after you," Tifa hissed before pausing, obviously trying to compose herself.

The martial artist took an angry step forward, closing the distance between her and Aeris. The gun wavered in her grip. "He was almost possessed with the desire to protect you and when you died, nothing anyone especially not me said would get through to him. It was as if I wasn't even _there_."

Aeris frowned in confusion; Tifa was making little sense. "I don't understand," she countered, shifting slightly to the side to keep Tifa in her line of sight. "You were spying on us for ShinRa! How can you turn this around on him? On us?"

"I disappeared!" Tifa roared, color flying into her cheeks. Her voice echoed around the room. "They knew it!" she continued, practically spitting the words at the other female. "They knew to blame ShinRa but they did nothing anyways. He left me. Cloud left me to DIE!"

She unconsciously recoiled from the vehemence in Tifa's tone. It was filled with so much hatred that it made Aeris feel sick on her stomach. "But you were on their side the entire time," she protested, shaking her head. Her gaze flickered to her weapon, which was propped up uselessly on the other side of the room... far out of her ability to reach.

Hephaestion stirred in her mind, obviously concerned for her health but she again asked him to stay back. There was still a chance... still hope that there was something left of the Tifa Lockhart she had once known. Aeris wanted to believe that it hadn't all been a front.

"I would have changed," Tifa shot back, something bright shining in her cherry-brown eyes. "If he had kept his promise..." Her free hand clenched into a fist as her body began to tremble. "If he had saved me... I almost believed I was in love with him again. I almost turned away from ShinRa."

Aeris curled an arm around her waist, mentally preparing some sort of spell to defend herself. The other woman was getting more and more unstable and she couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to get through to her. "Tifa... I'm..." The martial artist was starting to make little sense and Aeris wondered if she no longer held sanity.

"It's too late now!" Tifa snarled, slashing her free hand through the air and cutting off whatever it was Aeris planned to say. "Rufus is gone! Your precious Cloud is dead and all that's left is for you to die! You should have stayed dead just like I should have died back in Nibelheim." There was a click as she chambered a round and aimed the pistol directly at Aeris' rounded abdomen. "No one ever asked why I'm alive, did they?" she continued. "No one ever wondered what Sephiroth did to me."

Jade eyes blinked in confusion. "What are you--" Her gaze caught something that might have been movement out of the corner of her eye and just behind Tifa. She had the suspicion that it was Elena coming back to check on her.

"I can't have children, you bitch!" Tifa screamed, one hand violently slapping to her own belly, fingers tracing over a scar on her abdomen, hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt. Tears welled up in her eyes but she blinked them away, replacing her grief with hatred. "It wasn't until Sephiroth nearly killed me that I realized my power wasn't enough. And you have it all... everything I was supposed to have. Give it BACK TO ME!"

Her voice screeched around the room as her finger moved to squeeze the trigger. Aeris prepared herself, her hand twitching at her side as she strengthened her shield and prepared to throw something disabling back at the other woman. Except, Tifa suddenly gasped, cherry-brown eyes widening as blood bubbled from her mouth and dribbled down her chin. In the same moment, she reflexsively squeezed the trigger.

The sound of the bullet was deafening in the tense silence as it screeched across the room and slammed into Aeris' shield, only to be absorbed the barrier. It dissolved into little more than dust, falling into a useless pile on the floor. Aeris gaped in surprise, her eyes immediately flickering back to Tifa.

The handgun fell from nerveless fingers, clattering noisily to the floor. "I... don't..." Tifa murmured before coughing and slumping to the ground. Behind her, Shera was staring in surprise at her own hands, one of them clutching a bloodied dagger.

Shera raised her eyes to Aeris. "I can't believe I did that," she breathed, not really in shock but more in awe of her own strength. "I didn't even know I had it in me," she finished as Aeris shook her head and hurried forward, automatically dropping her shield.

She knelt at Tifa's head, reaching out and pressing two fingers to Tifa's neck. A weak pulse met her touch. Tifa was alive but barely. She would not last long, evidenced by the blood beginning to seep into the floorboards. Shera must have struck something fatally internal with that blade.

Aeris knew she could heal Tifa, she certainly had the materia and the energy but couldn't help but wonder if it was something she should even consider doing. Tifa was a woman at the end of her ropes, driven to a desperate madness by circumstance. She had only ever wanted to find a measure of happiness and life kept stealing it away bit by bit until there was nothing left but her hatred.

"I hate you," Tifa rasped, peeling her eyes open to glare angrily at the flower girl. Her face twisted into something vile and ugly. "I hate you for what I never had."

Jade eyes softened, wondering how the cheerful little girl that Cloud had always talked about would have grown up if she had never met Sephiroth. "I know," she murmured quietly. "I know."

She didn't even have to make the choice; it was made for her. Tifa's eyes slid shut and Aeris reached forward, gently closing her eyelids. A simple Life would have sufficed but perhaps it was better this way. The sound of footsteps interrupted her morose thoughts and the flower girl looked up to see Rude and Elena standing in the doorway, staring with horror at the scene.

"Shera!" Rude exclaimed in surprise, his jaw gaping. It was the most expression either Elena or Aeris had seen on his normally stoic face. "What happened here?"

The flower girl rose to her feet, her face pinched with solemnity. "I wish I could say I understood." Jade eyes flickered to Tifa's body before she sighed. "I don't know if she truly meant to kill me or if she was here to die."

Elena dashed into the room, her fingers hurriedly pressing to Tifa's neck and checking for a pulse. It came as no surprise when she felt none. Behind her, Rude entered as well, moving quickly to his wife's side. He plucked the knife from her fingers and dropped it the floor. Shock bloomed inside of him, never in a million years believing that his wife would have been the one to take Tifa down.

Shera managed a small smile as she looked up at him. "I only wanted to let Aeris know that Zack was up and joking but then I saw Tifa and..." She trailed off as she shook her head. "I guess everyone gets a chance to be a hero, huh? That dagger you gave me came in handy."

Her husband shook his head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you," he replied softly before pulling her into his arms. The fear that had struck him when he first caught sight of the scene still reverberated in his mind. It only served to prove why he had wanted his wife and unborn son away from the battle. He never had reason to fear before as a Turk but now... he had something he just couldn't lose.

"I'm sorry," Shera replied, her voice muffled by his chest and not really sounding contrite.

"No," Aeris interrupted softly. "I am the one who should apologize. I wanted to believe there was something I could do to save her and it nearly cost me my life." Her fingers rubbed over her belly.

Elena rose to her feet and reached for a nearby chair, her fingers hooking around a crocheted blanket and pulling it from the back. She laid it over Tifa's body, cloaking it from their sight until they called for someone to remove her. Knowing Aeris, she would want the woman to have a proper burial even if she had been the enemy.

Sighing softly, the Turk's eyes turned towards the window, just catching a bright white flash of lightning as thunder rumbled above them, rattling the glass in the panes. Her thoughts instantly turned to the others and a feeling of dread washed over her senses. Elena mentally whispered a silent prayer to someone, truthfully_ anyone_ that would listen. If they lost this battle then there was no hope left for Gaia.

------

His emotions were raging, his breath was burning in his chest and his body trembled. He barely felt the dripping of the rain, barely noticed the flash of each lightning as the sky rumbled and declared its anger above him. His boots squelched in mud, slowing him down but not stopping him. His hand clenched so tightly to his Electro Rod that it ached, fingers leaving marks in the black grip.

Reno swung the weapon and destroyed another monster, not even sparing it an impassive glance as it crumpled to the ground. He hadn't even noticed what kind of beast it was, only spilling its blood effortlessly before moving on. He no longer cared about anything, not with the world around him veiled in shades of crimson fury. He wanted to see the enemy _bleed_; he wanted some kind of relief from the pain in his heart.

Something stepped out of the mist in front of him, attempting to bar his path. It wasn't a monster this time, but a human, or at least something that appeared human. Another demi-deity, eyes barely visible through thin slits in a silver helm were void of all feeling and the man gripped a mace tightly in slim fingers.

Reno didn't even slow in his rampage. He darted forward, a battle cry banking behind his lips but not emerging as muddy water splashed up around him, soaking his trousers.

Vacuous green eyes widened almost imperceptibly before the deity was forced to defend against Reno's ruthless assault. Mace met Electro Rod in a jarring motion that reverberated through Reno's arm. He was sure that it had made a resounding clang but couldn't hear the noise over the rushing of his ears. Everything was nothing but hate now.

A growl spilled from his lips, wordless and guttural as Reno pushed against the stronger deity. A fist headed for his head, only to glance off of the barrier that Reno naturally produced thanks to his bond with Asclepius. He didn't know where the perky deity was... hadn't even heard her voice since the fight began.

Reno shifted positions, whirling on his heels only to dart forwards, surprising the taller male with his voracity. The mace came up again but Reno batted it away with his left hand before swinging the Electro Rod with the other. One end slammed into the deity's stomach, sending out his breath in a whoosh of hot air before Reno twirled the Rod in his hand, reversing its direction.

The metal tip slammed against the knight's temple, blood spraying into the air. It was a garish, scarlet color against the grey morning sky and the deity groaned, his eyes still showing no emotion. Reno didn't pause. He could still hear Balaam's voice, his taunting laughter. Balaam was somewhere in the mist, he had only to find him.

He sprang past the deity, throwing a spell at his opponent who was still gasping for breath. The unnamed male was enveloped in a Destruct spell, the magic ripping him apart from the outside in. The materia had been a parting gift from Yuffie, a silent request for him to kick some ass with her in mind. Yet, Reno spared the deity not another glance, charging forward with little subtlety.

A beast popped out in front of him. He sliced it down without a moment's thought. Two more emerged from the side, little more than pawns in Balaam's claw. He threw out a Destruct at the first one, ignoring its howls of pain as he turned towards the other. A quick jab to the chest and this one was gone. Footsteps squelched behind him and Reno whirled, Electro Rod at the ready.

His eyes fell on the falling form of a beast, head cleanly sliced from its body and Nanaki standing just behind it, heaving for breath. He opened his mouth as if to speak but Reno ignored him... there was only silence, blood rushing in his ears. The Turk turned back around and started running again, Balaam's voice echoing in his head. In this direction, somewhere... he was sure of it.

Reno splashed through a puddle, deep enough to soak him to his knees and was forced to nearly climb out of it. His senses flared and he narrowly avoided the swing of a rusted axe, held in the hand of a snaggle-toothed goblin. He twisted his back, body flowing against the weather, and threw out another spell, his energy beginning to lag from the constant casting.

Soon he would only have his physical strength.

Two more beasts, one right after another, a continuous tide of merciless assault. He jabbed his Electro Rod through the eye of a bird-like combination that he didn't even want to consider, greenish blood spilling out of the now empty socket. He shuddered unconsciously as the brackish smell filled the area, nearly drowning out the strange sulfurous scent of the rain.

Something tumbled against his back and Reno whirled to find yet another beast already falling in its death throes. Nanaki had saved him once more.

The demi-human darted forward and grabbed the Turk by his shoulders, squeezing angrily and resisting the urge to shake some sense into him. "Snap out of it, Reno!" Nanaki argued, shouting over the deafening pulse of the weather. "Reeve won't get any better if you die by acting reckless!"

Aquamarine eyes blinked, trying to find coherence amongst the madness.

"That's right, wild one..." A voice suddenly echoed around them before a bolt of lightning struck the ground less than ten feet away. When the glare faded, three figures were left standing before them and Reno could only assume that they were demi-deities judging by the power they exuded. The one in the middle he immediately recognized. It was Mabuz and beside him was Daunte. The third, however, he did not know.

Mabuz sneered. "Yes, I know the name the faithful has given you," he finished as a static charge began to fill the area, making their hair stand on end. Above them, the sky swirled and darkened, the clouds growing thicker. A rumble loud enough to shake the heavens make the ground beneath them tremble.

A mocking cackle followed the deity's statement. Daunte chortled as the third remained blank-eyed, staring vacantly into space. "How does it feel to be used?" he taunted, flexing powerful muscles. "How does it feel to know your lover's fate is the fault of the faithful?" The last came out as an amused hiss.

Reno growled, rage instantly fueling his fire. He jerked forward, weapon gripped tightly in his hand but Nanaki's fingers clamped around his arm, stopping him immediately. "Don't fall for their taunts," he urged, though golden eyes were narrowing in annoyance. "We can't afford to lose this battle." He released Reno's arms, trusting the Turk to remain calm, and stepped back from the other male.

The moment the words left his lips; however, a swirl of crackling, fiery energy appeared at the demi-human's side. Suzaku flashed into existence, flames licking at her feet. She exuded enough heat that the rain did not even touch her body, evaporating before it could wet her down.

"Enough of this foolishness!" she declared, slashing a hand through the air. "This ends and this ends now, Mabuz. You will pay for what you have done to Reeve."

The God of Thunder merely laughed all the louder, lightning beginning to crawl in evident traces upon his skin. Pale amber eyes glinted with something indescribable. "You could try," he hissed as he thrust his hand to the side, a three-pronged weapon appearing between his claws. Before another word could be spoken, he leapt at Reno, determined to end his life.

Reno took a step back, a shield immediately enveloping his body. Their weapons met with a resounding clang, sparks flying into the air despite the rain. The Turk slipped in the slimy mud and tumbled backwards, desperately trying to keep his balance. It was to no avail and he crashed ass-first into the mire, Mabuz wasting no time in leaping atop him.

Lightning crackled harmlessly over Reno's barrier but it was only magical in nature. He was still vulnerable to physical attacks. The points of the demi-deity's sai slipped through his defenses and stabbed into his shoulder, piercing the flesh easily. Reno groaned against the pain, throwing his body upwards in an attempt to dislodge the deity. Mabuz only laughed louder, easily thwarting his efforts and sounding very much insane.

"Bleed mortal!" Mabuz screamed, jerking his left arm back to strike once more. "Bleed and die! Urk!" He reared when arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, a slim grasp clasping onto his wielding arm.

Reno briefly received a glimpse of soft green hair and scarlet eyes, instantly recognizing his animus. Mabuz roared and tried to buck her off but she was tenacious. The Turk used the distraction to push himself through the mud, digging his heels into the soaked soil and sliding out from under Mabuz. He winced as blood cascaded down his arm and threw his Electro Rod to the side in disgust. Against the God of Thunder it would be absolutely useless.

His hand dove towards the hollow of his back where he had earlier stashed the Flare-powered handgun Elena had pressed into his fingers previously. In the same moment, Mabuz snapped his wings to the side and threw Asclepius away from him. The female deity soared through the air and landed in a puddle with a wet snap, her body twisted unnaturally.

"Asclepius!" Reno screamed. A feminine groan reached his senses as she shook her head and struggled to rise, obviously very dizzy. She was alive but seeing her thrown made Reno see crimson. He turned back towards the deity, squeezing off a shot.

The Flare bullet flew out of the gun, clipping Mabuz in the side. It exploded as it collided with the older male, engulfing him in a sea of orange and crimson flames. Reno snarled, hatred beginning to fill his heart as he stepped closer, gun still raised and aimed for the burning deity. He blinked rain out of his eyes and from the corner of his vision noted Nanaki locked in a duel with Daunte, claw against chakram. However, Reno would leave that battle up to the demi-human.

He had more important matters to take care of. With that in mind, Reno fired off another round but before it could even strike home, a bolt of lightning emerged and met it midair. A great flash and explosion rocked the air, the boom loud enough to cause Reno's eardrums to rattle. Mabuz laughed darkly and crossed his arms in front of his face before slashing them down to the side, dispelling the flame. A fanged smirk broke out on the demi-deity's expression.

Reno muttered a curse under his breath but was determined not to be defeated so easily. He squeezed off another round, already darting to the side to avoid the attack he knew was going to be coming. His feet moved with unnatural speed, given to him by his bond with Asclepius. There were certainly perks to be bonded.

"Too slow!" Mabuz suddenly appeared behind Reno, sneering his disgust. He twisted his wrist, swinging the sai for what he expected to be Reno's unprotected back. A hand immediately rose up and blocked the assault, absorbing the force of the blow yet Mabuz countered with a firm backhand, leaving four red and bleeding marks on Reno's cheek.

The Turk went flying backwards, slamming into the ground hard. His breath was momentarily knocked out of him but he took satisfaction in knowing that Mabuz was limping, one of his wings completely scorched even if it was slowly healing. Coughing, Reno abruptly rolled over, narrowly avoiding Mabuz' new round of attacks.

He dizzily jerked to his feet and twisted his body around, squeezing off his fourth and then the final fifth round before dropping the empty magazine. Reno groped in his pocket for the Freeze reload pack, mentally tallying up his remaining ammo. Elena had only had time to make another Flare and a rather useless Bolt to give him. He would have to make every shot count.

Mabuz blocked the first shot with his unharmed wing, absorbing the fire but causing damage in the process. He wasn't prepared for the second round and it exploded in his face, making him stumble backwards in surprise.

There was a click as Reno popped in the second cartridge, only to be overrun by the sound of a voice, screaming in pain. A bright light enveloped the area, chasing away much of the fog and enabling him to better see the vicinity. Reno's gaze flickered to the left, catching sight of Suzaku blazing against Tristan, his strength no match for her power.

Then lightning burst against Reno's shield, the wave of power enough to cause him to stumble but the magic causing little damage. He abruptly returned his attention to Mabuz who had shaken off the last attack. His face was charred but he was slowly beginning to heal, a look of complete fury etched into his expression. Reno smirked and moved to meet him.

Mabuz would pay for what he had done to Reeve.

On the other side of the battlefield, Nanaki slashed at Daunte, his claws meeting the deity's chakram with a sparking clang that sounded abnormally loud against the constant plopping of the rain. Though Daunte was exuding heat strong enough to sear him on the spot, Nanaki was protected against it thanks to his bond with Suzaku. Not to mention the shield Asclepius had so helpfully cast earlier was absorbing a good bit of the energy.

Metal screeched on metal before the two jerked away from each other, only to dart forward, exchanging a rapid series of blows. Metal sparks flew into the air as their weapons shrieked in protest.

Daunte pressed forward and swung with all his might, striking a heavy blow against Nanaki's wrist. The demi-human cringed, feeling his bones rattle and leapt back to avoid the next blow. Daunte gave chase, grabbing Nanaki's weaponed arm by the wrist with one hand and sliding strong fingers around his neck with the other.

Grinning maliciously, he picked up the demi-human as if he weighed no more than a feather and slammed him into the mud. Water splashed up, nearly drowning Nanaki as the shield absorbed most of the blow. He gasped for breath, the fingers feeling like an iron vise around his throat as his mind spun. His skull had smacked into a rock hidden in the mud and he felt as if his brain had rattled within his cranium.

"Your puny fire tricks won't work on me!" Daunte rasped, a snarl pulling back on his lips. He tightened his hold, delighting in each twitch of his opponent beneath him. "What are you going to do now, _mortal_?"

"Nanaki!"

Golden eyes peered through bleary vision to see Suzaku already starting his way, angry fires dancing over her body. Not even the rain could dampen her flames and a spot of blood peeked at the corner of her mouth but otherwise she was unharmed.

Finger tightened around his neck until he could no longer even choke and his body was shoved further into the mud. "Don't," Daunte warned, narrowing his eyes. "Or I'll kill your precious mortal. Don't you dare come any closer, fire brat."

Suzaku immediately froze in place as Nanaki struggled to draw a breath, but couldn't even gasp under the greater strength of the deity. His body twitched and his lungs burned. "Let him go, Daunte," the phoenix immediately demanded, slashing her hand through the air. The sky crackled and grew darker. "I'm tired of dragging the mortals into this. It isn't their fight."

"Mwa ha." The male deity sneered. "Maybe I should just kill him for fun, he?" he countered, flexing his fingers and forcing claws to emerge from them. Each dug five little holes into Nanaki's neck, causing blood to seep out and mix with the mud. "The despair on your face would be worth it... even if it would only be a fraction of what I suffered in my prison."

Beautiful crystalline blue eyes began to burn ocher. "You broke the law," the phoenix argued, obviously barely holding in her anger. She clenched one bangled hand into a fist. "Our decision was just."

"The words of a faithful!" His hold unconsciously loosened as he began to concentrate more on Suzaku and Nanaki gasped, gaining only the slightest breath. Spots danced in his eyes. It wasn't enough, but the sound alerted his anima. Suzaku took a step forward and Daunte screeched, "Stay back!"

Tired of being a damsel in distress, that brief gasp enough to return some coherency, Nanaki weakly reached up with a trembling arm and gripped Daunte's wrist. Golden eyes narrowed. "Try... a little ice," he gritted out before casting the most powerful ice spell in his inventory.

He felt the surge of power moments before an Ice 3 started climbing up Daunte's arm, leaving spidery trails of frozen liquid in its wake. The cascading rain hardened and thickened around the appendage, locking it in a cold prison. Daunte yelped at the burning chill, his body weak to such attacks, and immediately retracted his wrist, cradling the offended appendage.

Coughing and sputtering as he desperately sucked in much needed breaths, Nanaki rolled to the side, trying to restore his darkening vision. He could feel himself coated in the thick mire, blood trickling down his neck from the wounds yet he was alive and that was all that mattered. He gagged and hacked, nausea curdling in his belly from the brush with death.

His advanced senses barely caught the sound of Daunte attacking him once more. Nanaki quickly sprang forward, rolling on his shoulder and spinning in the morass until he was kneeling on one knee, facing Daunte. More coughs spilled from his lips, heaving for breath as the rain continued to spill down on them. If it were even possible, it seemed to be gaining in intensity, nearly making it impossible to see through the sheets of water.

Daunte snarled and tried to concentrate on heating up the ice that coated his arm. But thanks to the weather and spell both, it was thick. Far too thick for him to remove in a short amount of time. Suddenly, a fireball blasted him from the side and knocked him from his feet, the force of the attack more a threat than the actual flame. Using this to his advantage, Nanaki darted forward and tackled Daunte. He grabbed the deity by the neck, mirroring his earlier treatment and reared back his weaponed arm, fully prepared to stroke.

Cold, ageless eyes met his fearlessly as Daunte merely laughed in the face of his loss. "You can defeat me now," he mocked in a condescending tone. "But I'll never stop fighting for my freedom."

'Do it, my animus,' Suzaku urged calmly. He could feel her eyes watching him, waiting for him to finish his move. 'Send him back to Elysium.'

Swallowing thickly through his sore throat, another cough tickling at his tonsils, Nanaki's fingers curled through his claw in momentary indecision. He had never stared a sentient enemy in the face before and killed him. Even if he that Daunte wouldn't be truly dying... it still felt strange.

And then he remembered Yuffie. Her pain was the fault of this one, the male that he had in front of him. Nanaki knew in his heart that revenge was wrong, that it wasn't the way to solve anything. His Grandfather had taught him that. But he had never been so scared in his entire life. The fear that he might be left alone was worse than anything he had ever felt before. With Bugenhagen gone, he had no one but Yuffie and his friends.

Chortling, mocking laughter burned in his ears as his world tunneled until it was nothing but this decision, this choice. He barely felt Daunte shift and on the edge of his mind, Suzaku called his name again. Then pain arcing across his abdomen, the bite of a chakram slicing across his belly and just skimming the flesh. Without a second thought, Nanaki struck in retaliation.

His free hand snaked around his stomach, stalling the bleeding as Daunte dissolved into gray ash beneath him, that ever present smirk on his face. Yet, he left behind a small black orb, the tainted materia of his prison. Regarding it curiously, Nanaki plucked it from the mud and slipped the orb into his pocket. It was remarkably similar to the one Vincent already held.

Suzaku immediately rushed to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked softly, concern etched into her voice. She had been aware of his hesitation.

He nodded almost imperceptibly as he called up a cure, letting the restorative magic pour over his wound and fingers. "Yes, I'm fine," he responded, a strange tone emerging from his mouth. Suzaku wasn't sure how to interpret it and tilted her head to the side, confusion furrowing her brow.

Yet, a cry of pain assailed their ears. The sky thundered and rolled, accentuating the moan.

The victorious animum pair caught sight of Reno, coughing up blood as he crouched on the ground, perched on hands and knees. The expectorant spattered against the dirt, mixing with the brown and rain, creating a garish scarlet stream. Mabuz was circling around him, tossing his sai from hand to hand. And Asclepius was on the ground, seemingly unconscious.

"Mortals are weak, yet you are given the freedom. I don't understand it!" Mabuz screeched, darting forward and lashing out with a booted foot. But Reno threw up his arms and blocked the kick with his arms, skidding backwards through the mud on his feet.

He regained his balance and shakily rose. "I don't fucking care!" Reno snarled, hunching his back against the pounding press of the rain. Aquamarine eyes flickered towards his animus in concern, relieved to find that she breathed. In a moment of defending Reno, she had taken a shock of Mabuz' electricity unshielded. It was brave but stupid.

"I don't care about your fight or what you fuckin' want!" the Turk's hands clenched into fists as he abruptly spat out a gob of blood to the side, his lips painted a morbid color from the liquid. "All I care about is Reeve and what you did to him."

Nanaki and Suzaku exchanged glances before moving forward, intent on helping Reno. The phoenix was already making her way to Asclepius' side, the bubbly demi-deity needing her help. Yet, Reno heard the sound of Nanaki's footsteps squelching in the much and noticed his approach from the corner of his eye. He whirled towards his ally.

Slashing an arm through the air, Reno snarled, even as more blood dripped into his face from the wound on his forehead. "No! This is my fight! My pain!" He angrily swiped the back of his hand over his head, wiping away the blood. "Stay out of it or I'll consider you my enemy, too!"

Mabuz snorted. "So the hero shows his true colors. How amusing!" The last was said with a hiss seconds before he darted forward, catching the sai on its last flip.

Reno fired his second-to-last round of the Flare bullets realizing that unless he managed to get closer, the last bullet would be uselessly expended. Mabuz blocked the exploding attack with the last of his tattered wings, grinning maliciously behind the ragged leather. Shoving the gun into the hollow at his back, Reno flickered his gaze around, finally catching sight of his earlier abandoned Electro Rod. A plan began to form.

"Your bullets are useless!" Mabuz taunted, shaking his body as if he had easily shook off the attack. "It's time to lay down and DIE!" He dove for Reno in the same moment that the Turk dove for his weapon.

Lightning crashed in the sky, illuminating the area as Reno skidded through the mud only to wrap his fingers around the handle of the Electro Rod. He flipped over on his back just in time to parry the sai and rip it from Mabuz's hand, sending the three-pronged weapon flying. As Mabuz gaped from the loss, Reno slammed his fist into Mabuz's face, shattering the deity's nose.

The God of Thunder howled and staggered backwards, clutching his injured nose. Using that to his advantage, Reno darted forward, slipping slightly in the mud and feeling a bit woozy from his earlier injuries. A battle cry spilled through his lips as he stabbed the Electro Rod forward, using all of his strength and his momentum to shove it through Mabuz's gut.

The deity grunted, his body jerking on the end of the rod. Reno smirked and whipped up his other hand, revealing that he held the gun with its last round of explosive Flare.

"It's a little gift." He sneered. "From me to you." He balanced his firing arm on his other arm and squeezed the trigger directly in Mabuz's snarling face.

The deity couldn't even scream before he fell back, engulfed in flames and missing part of his head. The fires were so strong that blood didn't even spatter on the Turk. The gun fell from Reno's fingers as he slumped, clutching his side where blood seeped from a deep wound. The mud had helped to coat it but now that the rain was washing away the thick dirty, it bled freely.

Mabuz dissolved into black ash, leaving behind a black orb of materia. Reno blinked through the haze and managed the pluck the small sphere from the ground, shoving it down deep in his pocket. He collapsed forward, eyes rolling into the back of his head, only to be caught by hands before he reached the ground.

He fuzzily tilted his head to the side, catching a glimpse of Asclepius gently lowering him down. "Ichigo!" she called, shaking him slightly as her eyes desperately searched his face. He was losing consciousness but he was alive and that was what mattered. "Kami, I'm so sorry," she continued, apologizing profusely.

Nimble hands ripped the Turk's shirt open, revealing the bleeding gash. She pressed one hand to his side, healing the wound. "I should have been helping you--"

"It's fine," Reno rasped, trying to maintain hold on consciousness. Yet, he could already feel himself slipping. He was in pain, his entire body aching as if he had been put through a grinder, but it was nothing compared to the ache inside. He had known that defeating Mabuz would not instantly heal Reeve but he couldn't help but need to do it all the same.

"No, it's not," Asclepius countered, shaking her head as she let the healing magic pour over her fingers and into his wound. "Erebus was right. I need to stay back and defend like I'm supposed to and--"

A sigh echoed from behind her. "You did well, Asclepius," Suzaku said as she and Nanaki emerged out of the pulsing rain behind them. Though the mist was beginning to lift. "For one so young and unlearned in combat, you did better than expected."

Yet, the bubbly deity couldn't find it in her to beam at the praise. Ichigo was hurt and she hadn't protected him like she was supposed to. She frowned and returned her attentions to Reno who was staring hazily around them, slipping in and out of unconsciousness.

Nanaki stared down at his companion, having it in his mind to reprimand the reckless Turk once again. They were separated from the others and Sephiroth would be without their strength. Yet, a strange prickle raced up his spine, literally bursting with power. He looked to Suzaku but the phoenix was looking towards the east, her face pinched in worry.

"I don't recognize this," she whispered. "What is this power?" Suzaku turned towards her animus. "I battle may have already begun. We may be too late."

The demi-human followed her gaze. It was as he had feared. It was up to the others now, however. He could do nothing more to help them.

-----

The fog was thick enough that he could barely see his hand in front of his face. And if it weren't for the fact that he could feel Orthrus beside him, he wouldn't have seen his anima either. Sighing softly to himself, Tseng came to the conclusion that only his ability would be able to help him now. As much as he still loathed the secret, he would use it to defend Gaia.

Steeling himself for the rough encounter, Tseng gradually opened his senses to the influx of voices and sensations. The small murmuring at the back of his mind became a flood of thought and sound and he gritted his teeth. Concentrating, he slowly dampened the tide until it centered on that island alone, and then the subtle press of immortal tone.

He felt it then, the surge of power without a voice somewhere to his right, accompanied by the ancient pulse and throb of two unknown demi-deities. It had to be Apocalypto. Nothing else would need such energy.

'Can you feel it?' Orthrus questioned him telepathically.

Tseng nodded. "Yes," he answered aloud, preferring that method. He squinted slightly, trying to pinpoint the exact distance. "Twenty meters to the left. If not for the mist, then we would most likely be able to see it."

With that in mind, he decided to try and see if Orthrus had been speaking the truth after all. The deity had explained the perks of being bonded to him not but a few hours before they left for battle. Tseng had opted not for sleep, unable to rest while getting accustomed to no longer blocking his abilities.

Raising a hand, he splayed his fingers and sent out a pulse of power, shaping a current of wind that would blow away the mist in his mind. His body thrummed seconds before a breeze stirred out of nowhere before quickly strengthening to a large gust. He could literally see the threads of wind in the air as they wrapped around the fog and blew it into the sky, clearing the entire area.

And then he could see them, two demi-deities with empty gazes guarding some sort of strange object which hovered over an upwelling over the life stream. The faint gurgle and glow of mako green was plainly visible. The machine itself was nothing like Tseng had ever seen before. Vaguely resembling a giant drill and made entirely of metal, it literally pulsed with power.

Stepping out of the cloaking magic, Tseng approached.

"Percival and Bedwyr," Orthrus said aloud, blinking into existence besides his animus. "Two of Arthur's knights. They are not to be taken lightly."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the air shimmered around them, almost like it would in the heat of a summer mirage. They were suddenly met with countless faceless knights, all aiming weapons of various design at them.

Orthrus sighed, one hand twitching at his side. "It is Percival's ability. We can destroy them but unless we destroy the man himself, they will continue to be reborn once defeated."

Tseng's hands slid to the twin katana at his waist, quickly drawing the Tenken. He nodded briefly, already slipping into Turk mode before animus and anima sprang forward in opposite directions. Ahead of him, Bedwyr was racing forward through the hordes of faceless knights, wielding a set of twin katal to match Tseng's own blades. Percival stayed behind, ceaselessly guarding the machine as it rumbled towards the completion of the task it had been created for.

Animus and anima tore through the knight illusions as if they were mere paper, the things easily destroyed but just as quickly renewed. Orthrus wielded magic, tossing it from his hands faster than most could speak. Fire balls, cones of ice, and lightning bolts burst from his fingers, striking with deadly accuracy. And for close encounters, he could shape his energy into a physical weapon. Although the knights were mere illusions, the injuries they caused were all too real. Tseng's blades rose and fell, slicing cleanly through each opponent.

Yet, the battle felt strange. Their enemies did not speak, did not cry out in pain. The lack of sound gave both men an eerie feeling that shivered along their spines. Ahead of them, the light from Apocalypto grew brighter and brighter as it absorbed more of the planet's energy, powering some unknown purpose.

Orthrus flashed his away across the battlefield, his eyes set on the vacant stare of Percival. Lightning bolts flew from his fingers from afar, yet Percival skillfully stepped to the side, avoiding each one. His movements were languid and at ease, yet no emotion showed in his face.

To the deity's left, Tseng came face to face with Bedwyr, staring directly into blank brown eyes. He raised his blades, only to meet Bedwyr's with a piercing screech that rattled his eardrums. He faintly heard the dull murmur of a voice coming from the deity, but it was muted and masked... as if spoken through a filter.

They traded strength for a moment, neither gaining ground as their boots squelched into the mud, digging deep. For every press forward, Tseng was pushed back, his arms trembling from the weight. Then suddenly Bedwyr withdrew, whirling around and leaping into the air to strike from above. He performed an acrobatic twist before heading straight for Tseng.

The Turk braced himself for the attack, crossing his swords in front of him. Metal met metal with a resounding clang as Tseng leaned back to absorb the momentum, then suddenly shoved forward with a great heave. Bedwyr careened backwards, his boots digging furrows into the mud. He flicked his arms to the side, using his katal to slow his momentum.

The moment it ceased, he darted forward again, not wanting a single second's reprieve. Their blades struck in a rapid exchange that sent sparks flying into the air. Yet, neither refused to give in, their movements becoming so fast that only a deity's advanced sight could follow the swing of each blade. They were nothing but blurs of motion within a film of rain.

Then a misstep, perhaps only a minor miscalculation but enough to curry the duel in Tseng's favor. He knocked away Bedwyr's katals in one smooth motion, his second Tenken rising upwards in a firm swipe. The tip of his blade skimmed across Bedwyr's forehead as the deity leaned backwards to avoid the blow and caught against some unknown object. It shattered, bits and pieces flying into the air only to land and mix with the mire below.

Bedwyr immediately paused, one katal held in front of him for defense, the other halting mid-swing. He blinked, coherence and a look of light returning to once dead eyes. Tseng instantly halted his next attack, drawing back with some shock at the pressing difference in the man.

The deity blinked again, brow furrowed in confusion. "I... I--" he cut off as he groaned, a katal tumbling from his fingers and splashing noisily to the ground. He groaned, clutching his head.

Tseng lowered his Tenken as all the knights surrounding him suddenly shimmered before shattering into dust. On the corner of his vision, he noticed that Orthrus had defeated Percival, the Knight of the Round already dissolving to Elysium. The marked change in Bedwyr; however, was far more pressing. It was then that Tseng understood.

"Those control chips," he murmured, recalling what Elena and Sion had both reported to him before. "He was using them on you... wasn't he?" Silver eyes regarded Bedwyr piercingly.

Pale blue orbs blinked before Bedwyr slowly nodded, visibly trying to regain control of himself as he had so long been denied. "Yes... the materia that held our power had long been forgotten by the mortals in the Lost Grounds." He paused, clearly trying to remember before continuing, "When Balaam was freed, he found us and used that bastard mortal's technology. We resisted but..." Bedwyr trailed off, anger and disgrace both evident in his gaze.

Tseng tipped his head in understanding. "But there is never much resistance against a Hojo," he finished for the deity, well aware of that mad scientist's methods. It was precisely why he had hidden his ability so thoroughly, along with the fear of rejection by his peers.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled and an explosion rocked the area, sending both males flying through the air before slapping wetly to the ground. One of the Tenken skittered far out of Tseng's reach, burying halfway in a puddle and beneath a fall of mud. He hit hard enough to knock the breath out of him and was vaguely able to hear Bedwyr groaning somewhere nearby. Even more pressing was the abrupt absence of the low murmur of Orthrus' presence on the back of his mind.

'Orthrus?' he muttered telepathically, already searching for his animus' voice.

There was no response.

Groaning and coughing in the mist, rising once more but now accompanied by the debris of whatever had exploded, Tseng pushed himself to his knees and attempted to peer through the haze. The rain obscured his vision nonetheless he gasped. Apocaplytpo had exploded apparently, nothing remaining where it once sat except for the vague and dim pulse of what remained of the mako pool. Standing before its remains was a woman of ethereal beauty, nearly transfixing the Turk who had wholly believed his entire life that he was homosexual. Just one glance at her however, and he thought that she was the most stunning woman he had ever seen.

Pale, milky skin wrapped in heavy velvet scarlet robes made her appear little more than a bloodstain against the smoky grey sky. Her crimson hair was so dark that it was the color of dried blood. He couldn't see her eyes for her lids were closed, but she was lithe and shapely, the true epitome of every man's fantasy. Even Tseng felt the smallest of stirrings.

Beside him, Bedwyr coughed noisily, still somewhat dizzy from the recent release from the mind control chip. "Who... is that?" he demanded, obviously shocked. "She feels like an immortal but I do not recognize her."

"Then Gilgamesh was right," Tseng murmured, feeling somewhat cowed by her presence. "Only the eldest have heard of Persephone... the goddess of destruction."

Bedwyr gaped at him in astonishment but Tseng ignored him, returning his attention to Persephone who didn't seem to be too keen on either moving or even speaking. With her seemingly distracted, Tseng took the opportunity to sweep the battlefield once more.

'Orthrus?'

Again, there was no answer, nothing but white fuzz on the edge of his senses.

Silver eyes raked through the storm and it was then that he caught sight of it, not but feet away from the motionless Persephone. It appeared to be a prism formed of crystal and caught within was his anima, frozen in time. He even appeared to be in the midst of casting, even his robes flying about his body yet he was trapped mid-movement within the box.

"Orthrus!" he exclaimed in shock, jerking to his feet with the intention of freeing his anima. His fingers wrapped tight around one half of his Tenken, the other gone to his sight as a spell jumped to the fingers of his free hand.

"There's nothing you can do, mortal." A low voice whispered from behind him, but still sounded startling loud above the press of the rain and in the tense silence. "Only I can open Pandora's Prism."

Tseng whirled to find that Persephone stood just behind him a few feet away, abruptly moved from her earlier position. A snarl leapt to his lips, already feeling his fingers heating up with the flames of the spell he was summoning. "Let him go!" he demanded, taking a threatening step towards her.

A smile curled across her lips, seductive and inviting. From the corner of Tseng's eye he caught Bedwyr slowly rising from the ground, quietly swiping his dropped katal into his grasp. He could only assume that the freed demi-deity was on his side now.

"I do not think I will," Persephone replied, her eyes sliding open and revealing shining golden orbs, nearly overtaken by abnormally large pupils. Tseng saw nothing of the deadness like the Knights of the Round... but madness inside, thinly controlled yet destined to spiral out of control.

Recognizing that there would be no reasoning with the deity, Tseng sprinted forward. He sent out a spray of blue flame, far hotter than orange fires. It struck Persephone, only to flare against her shield and absorbed just as quickly. He refused to let that hinder him however, and attacked in the wake of the magic.

His fire tenken sliced through the air, aimed for her seemingly unprotected breast. She smirked, holding up a single elegant hand and an invisible shield intercepted his blade, striking with a musical clang.

Tseng gritted his teeth, retracting his blade and whirling for another strike. Lightning flashed and crackled above them, the rain wetting his hair down onto his scalp uncomfortably. Yet, Persephone blocked him with astounding speed, her eyes glinting mischievously. Before he could attack again, she sent him flying backwards with an invisible move.

Whatever it was tore through his clothes, seeking the tender flesh beneath and drawing blood. He hit the ground hard, momentarily seeing stars. As Tseng struggled to regain his breath, Bedwyr stormed past him and attacked.

Persephone summoned another shield to attack the deity with but he darted around her, tricking her with his constantly flitting movement. His katal flashed, slicing across a fair cheek before Persephone shifted slightly, that invisible blade tearing into Bedwyr's chest. He gasped, his entire body jerking before he dissolved to Elysium.

Tseng gaped in astonishment. The woman had defeated Bedwyr in a mere blink. He rose to his feet, knowing that he must stop her yet wondering if there was even a method for a mortal such as himself to accomplish that.

Seductive and sultry, Persephone stepped towards him, her hips swaying. "It is a shame you are my enemy," she purred, raising the fingers of her left hands and waving them at him. "You are rather pretty, my dear. We could have had fun together." Golden eyes flashed before a pulse of power rippled through the air.

Tseng felt it rather than saw it, automatically bringing up his sword to block the attack and absorb most of the blow. He barely succeeded, feeling his entire body bow against the pressure. He grunted but was unprepared for her second assault, this one of psychic strength.

Pain suddenly radiated through his head. "Aaagh!" A scream poured from the Turk's lips as he fell to his knees, Tenken falling from his fingers. It felt as if his skull was splitting in two. Memories not his own, voices of the multitudes screaming in his mind so loudly that he feared his brain was boiling. Flashes of images, mortal and immortal alike, even Persephone's original imprisonment came to his mind.

She had hurt. She had been confused. She had begged for forgiveness but Kami had turned deaf ears on her. In his eyes had been sorrow and regret, and in her heart burned bitterness until there was nothing but darkness and emptiness. Trapped alone beneath the seal for thousands of years, knowing nothing but the silence of her imprisonment and feeling the definite loss of half her power, she degenerated further. There was nothing left of her mind when Balaam found her. What sanity remaining had melted into a sludge of monotony.

Tseng screamed until his voice turned raw and hoarse, his throat closing up on him. And then he felt it, the shadow falling over his body and making his skin crawl with chill. Mud squelched and he felt her presence, Persephone standing over his immobile form. Perfectly manicured fingers pressed under his chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Yes," she mused thoughtfully, her voice a purr. Tseng's body wracked his pain and he felt as if he was trying to hold himself together by the strength of his arms alone, fingers digging into his shoulders. Yet, she did not cease her assault. "Very pretty indeed."

He wanted to say something, anything to make the pain stop but his voice caught in his throat. His eyes burned with restrained tears and anything he wanted to say was stuck in his mouth, behind his lips where they refused to emerge.

Persephone's golden gaze burned. "But now it is time to _sleep_," she whispered seductively before releasing his chin. His head didn't even have time to drop before a finger was flicked across his forehead, not even painful.

Tseng's entire body seized, stiffening like a board before he felt the shadows encroaching. Persephone was walking away, seemingly floating over the mud. He then felt as if he were falling a far distance, though he knew the ground was only inches away. Darkness invaded his sight and before he lost consciousness, his last thought was that he had failed in his mission. He had failed Sephiroth.

* * *


	71. Unbreakable

**Warning: This chapter is very fast-paced. Just a warning. The final battle consists of about twenty different people fighting each other so... be prepared for rapid conflict.**

**Chapter 71: Unbreakable**

Sephiroth tumbled across the ground, slipping and sliding in the mire. Rain eclipsed his vision before he finally ceased, sprawling ungracefully across the ground. A large form, several times heavier than his own leapt atop his chest. It was a strange, slavering creature that he had no hopes of beginning to describe. Talons and teeth seemed to be everywhere.

A fanged mouth snapped at Sephiroth's neck and he punched the maw with his fist. He writhed beneath the beast, desperate for escape. His free hand groped for his sword, only to realize with startling horror that he was laying on most of the blade - the only problem with wielding a long weapon. He had only his fists, it seemed.

Sephiroth snarled and punched the monster again as claws dug into his shoulders, strong enough to slice through his clothes. Blood seeped out, the wounds stinging but nothing compared to the taloned foot that slashed him across the belly. Sephiroth grunted before wrapping his fingers around the snapping muzzle, protecting his delicate throat.

He clamped the mouth shut as he violently twisted his body, shoving the beast to the side. He managed to free himself from the creature's weight and quickly sprinted to a crouching position. In one smooth motion, Sephiroth had wrapped one hand around his bleeding abdomen and drawn his sword, leveling it at the beast.

The monster rose to his feet a short distance away, allowing Sephiroth to get a good look at its ugly form. Six legs, much like a canine's except covered in dusky scales, lined its body. It held four milky white eyes and obvious poison seeped from its fangs, sticky saliva dripping to the ground and dripping like acid. The creature filled Sephiroth with horror, reminding him all too eerily of the monsters of Hojo's laboratory. Memories he had hoped to bury threatened to rise again.

"Doomtrain, the god of disaster," Gilgamesh murmured, stepping out of the mist and appearing at Sephiroth's side. "He is a deity of pure instinct. Do not be fooled into believing you are facing only one enemy."

The former General's brow furrowed. "What?" he panted, a cure already pouring from his fingers. It was only low-level but it sealed up the wound on his belly, leaving nothing but a faint, pinkish scar. He knew it would eventually heal completely however, thanks to all of the accursed substances running through his system.

He didn't know what all Hojo had injected into his body and when he had been reborn, it hadn't been removed. Sephiroth wasn't sure if he was supposed to hate that part of him or be grateful for the extra strength it afforded him. Either way, the truth of the matter was that he hadn't a scar on him, anywhere on his body.

He would like to be arrogant enough to believe it was because he was so skilled no one could ever touch him. No matter what he had suffered in the past, even if he couldn't exactly remember, no matter his pain or the agony, his body bore no marks. Nevertheless, Sephiroth had always felt broken.

Gilgamesh never had a chance to respond as the beast shimmered in front of them, appearing to break apart. Doomtrain split until there was two... then four... and then finally eight copies of the same hideous creature. Each seemed as real as the original, down to the dripping acidic saliva that hissed on the mud spattered ground.

His anima sighed and drew three of his blades, preparing for battle. "Do not let any of them bite you or you will be cursed with Doom," Gilgamesh warned. "Only Ma'at or Hephaestion can heal of you his bite, neither of which are here," he finished before placing the hilt of the third blade between his teeth and dropping into a battle stance.

Mossy green eyes narrowed. "Duly noted," Sephiroth muttered and he suddenly sprinted backwards, avoiding the abrupt pounce of two of the monsters. They landed in the exact spot he had vacated, the ground beneath them splintering and cracking beneath their feet. Some of the rocks turned to dust.

Sephiroth's feet hit the mud and his boots slid in the slick substance. He fought to regain his balance, one leg falling back only to twist on a rock. He nearly tumbled to the ground before he salvaged the movement. Confusion filled his mind. He was not normally a clumsy man.

Yet, he had no more time to consider the strangeness of the situation. The two beasts pounced again, mouths agape and fangs gleaming. Sephiroth quickly withdrew his sword, his blade whipping through the air. One attack was blocked by the weapon as his other hand twitched with the summoning of one of the few working materia in his arsenal - Gravity.

The beast on the left howled when its body was torn apart, pulled in a thousand different directions from the force of the spell. It sputtered and growled, blood pouring to the ground in its death throes. Sephiroth hacked at the other opponent, nimbly dodging a violent pounce.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Gilgamesh had already hacked three of the canine-like creatures to pieces. They did not dissolve as he had suspected however, leading him to believe that they probably had to defeat all of the beasts in order to destroy Doomtrain. Either that, or the others were merely existent copies and they had to slay the true Doomtrain.

Sephiroth's senses prickled, alerting him to danger and he threw himself to the side with blinding speed, a gift of his bond. He barely avoided the poisonous maws of a third copy, which had snuck up behind him in his moment of distraction. Angrily, he sliced through the beast he had already struck before whirling around to face the last, a snarl pulling at his lips. His fingers clenched tightly around his sword.

Squaring his shoulders, Sephiroth flash-stepped across the field, a wonderful little ability granted to him by his bond with Gilgamesh. In a second, he was behind the slavering beast, his blade whipping through the air. He smoothly sliced through the Doomtrain clone, blood spraying into the air that he nimbly avoided. As that beast fell to the ground, he quickly whirled around, searching the battlefield. Yet, in the mist he could see nothing.

Then something flew out of the fog, heading straight for him. He leapt backwards, feet slipping slightly in the mud as something plopped to the ground in front of him, twitching visibly. A glance later informed him that it was another Doomtrain, only this one shuddered before dissolving into nothing but faint grey ash.

A sneer leapt onto the former General's face, knowing that Gilgamesh had been the one to throw the beast at him. He glared as his anima stepped out of the mist, sliding the last of his three blades back into one of his sheaths.

"Point me in the direction of the others, show off," Sephiroth demanded a bit cursorily. He was still rather irritated by the secrets that had been kept from him.

Gilgamesh wordlessly raised one hand and pointed, vaguely to the east. Sephiroth nodded and started in that direction, allowing the rain to sluice the blood from his sword. His mind instantly turned to the others, wondering how they were faring. Nanaki and Reno had run off into the mist alone and he had sent Tseng after Apocalptyo. He wondered if the Turk had succeeded.

* * *

Vincent stared at Balaam and his cronies, wondering if there was anything left that the demi-deity had to throw at them. Five immortal opponents against their meager numbers was not going to be easy. Yet, before Vincent could even say anything, Balaam's attention was no longer on him. Instead, the Chaos deity's eyes flickered past him, centering directly on both Erebus and Baal standing at the former Turk's side.

"The traitors show their faces," Balaam hissed derisively, one clawed hand twitching at his side as if eager to begin the battle. "I relish this chance to return the favor."

Deep purple eyes were filled with remorse, wavering slightly in the face of the hardest decision he had ever made in his entire existence. "I was trying to save you, not betray you," Baal responded, shaking his head. "You were--"

"Don't lie to save face in front of your animus!" Balaam interrupted with a snarl. At his side, Cactuar tittered and started forward, yellowish face and beady eyes gleaming with the urge to attack. Yet, Balaam shot him a glare, ordering him to stay his hand.

"He's not lying!" Erebus argued, slashing a hand through the air. He took a step forward. "What you're doing is wrong, Balaam!"

Dark eyes widened, Balaam visibly recoiling as if someone had physically struck him before his visage hardened. "You call me Father, son," he growled, wings twitching irritably.

"I call you nothing," the underworld deity hissed in return. "You abandoned Mother and I for your own selfish reason. The only father I need is standing right beside me." He gestured sharply towards Baal, not knowing how that filled Baal with both pride and regret.

It was the worst of things he could have done. He had turned his back on the deity he had wished to claim as his very best friend, the deity he had _loved_, to do what he felt needed to be done. Instead of staying by his side, he had fought against him. And then worse, he had stolen his son from him in the dead of the night without so much as a goodbye. There was no worse transgression than to be both thief and traitor, at least, not in Baal's eyes. He did not deserve the honor of Erebus calling him 'dad'.

If there were anything anyone could have said to invoke Balaam's wrath, those would have been the words. The Chaos deity literally shook with rage as his eyes narrowed accusingly at Baal. "You even took my son from me," he muttered in a low, dangerous voice. It sounded like a promise, a promise to exact revenge.

Balaam took a violent step backwards, beyond the line of deities he had amassed. Gesturing towards them, his lips curled back over his fangs. "Destroy them."

All hell broke loose.

Cactuar tittered and darted forward with glee, a sharp and shrill whistling noise spilling from his lips. The ground shuddered and shook as his brethren started to rise from the ground, jumping from beneath the surface and charging at the companions. They were smaller, but equally fast and powerful.

To Cactuar's left, the brothers surged to the fore. Minotaur swung a huge axe, cleaving the air in front of him and forcing Vincent and the rest of the party to scatter to avoid the blow. Behind him, Sacred slammed a fist into the ground. Shockwaves of energy not unlike Zack's attack caused the earth to crack; flying rocks careened into the air and became sharp projectiles.

Ifrit sprang into the air, chuckling darkly as he twisted and turned. Fireballs sprayed from his fingers in a wide arc, not even aiming just randomly striking the ground and narrowly missing the companions. He threw them in all directions as he charged forward, attacking from above.

"I'm going to enjoy this!" Ifrit shouted, flames dancing on the end of his clawed fingertips.

Around him, the others scattered. Vincent took a step backwards, his gun instantly raised. In an instant, he had taken out several of the smaller cactuars but there were even more surging forward, a prickly tide of foes. His fingers squeezed the trigger again, releasing a spray of bullets until a sudden fear of danger surged through his senses.

Baal abruptly dove in front of the gunman, wings fully flexed as a dark hole sprang to life. The fireball that had been careening Vincent's direction was immediately swallowed, disappearing into the void. Before the former Turk could even voice his appreciation, Baal was gone again, intercepting the two minotaur brothers who were heading this way.

Vincent turned, only to come face to face with the gaping, fiery expression of Ifrit himself. Immediately, he raised his gun, his own facade hardening into his Turk battle fury. On the edge of his senses, it became clear that all around was chaos, the battle proceeding with little organization. And Balaam merely watched from the background, content to enjoy what he believed to be a soon victory.

Chains sprouted from the ground, some even appearing from thin air as they were directed by Erebus, the underworld deity struggling against his fleet-footed foe. Cactuar was a much older deity, more learned in the ways of combat and even faster in movement. Erebus was having a difficult time keeping up with his intricate actions and his attire showed it.

Slash marks were visible in the dark fabric, long and ragged, giving off a very tattered appearance. He was breathing heavily with exertion, the metal chains clanking and clinging as they struggled to bind Cactuar's speed.

The other deity tittered and laughed, skidding through the mud and suddenly stopping his agile movements. He threw his hands out to the side and before Erebus could even comprehend the purpose, a thousand stinging needles were flying through the air at him. Acting quickly, he twirled his scythe in front of him, creating a shield of swords that blocked a good number of the barrage, sending them careening away. Yet, a few managed to break through his defenses, clipping his left shoulder, right temple and right leg.

Erebus hissed in pain, feeling blood immediately well up from the most likely poisoned thorns and gritted his teeth, narrowing angered, golden eyes. Cactuar only continued to titter, his rapidly moving feet stirring up clods of wetted soil. Above them, the sky clashed and continued to pour. It was truly miserable weather.

A shape flitted past Erebus, moving far quicker than he could comprehend and it was only with belated understanding that he realized it was ally and not enemy. Archer sprinted forward, flitting through the shorter cactus enemies, his hand briefly touching one before he moved on. Each that felt his fingers instantly grew mottled with poison, body seizing up and falling to the ground in convulsions. Above them all, Tiamat sprang into the air, transforming into her supine, dragon body mid-flight. Slitted, serpentine eyes set their attention on the wind goddess, Pandemona.

The two female demi-deities clashed mid-air, Tiamat's sharp talons aiming for Pandemona's tender belly. The other deity blew a great gust of wind, snapping the dragon's wings back and attempting to throw off her flight. Yet, Tiamat had already grasped onto the wind deity and now clung with stubborn tenacity, drawing deep wounds. Poison spread from her scaled touch, instantly weakening the deity.

Pandemona screeched. "Let go of me, hag!" she demanded. "It's because of you that my brother's gone!" Her words echoed harshly as she summoned up a great storm, thunder booming so close to them that it nearly deafened the dragon goddess' sensitive hearing.

Yet, she refused to release her hold. Trying to shake off the rattling in her ears, Tiamat snapped her fangs at Pandemona, attempting to draw blood. Acting with intelligence, the other deity kept her delicate face and neck far from Tiamat's deadly reach. Though the slither of poison through her body was distinctly unpleasant. A faint tingling of pain was beginning to radiate through her nerves as her grip grew weaker and weaker.

"If you had not begun this ridiculous war, no lives would have been lost," Tiamat countered as they continued to grapple in mid-air, only their combined magic keeping them aloft.

Pandemona blew an unladylike noise from her mouth. "Silence," she hissed, fingers tightening where they gripped onto the lady dragon. She moved her grasp, switching to the tender joints of wing and back. "I'll hear nothing of your lives. The faithful would claim anything to prove their justice."

She viciously wrenched away from the dragoness, her fingers crudely wrenching on a delicate wing bone. Tiamat crooned in agony as she whipped up her foreleg and tore a huge gash in Pandemona's right leg, blood raining to the ground in a macabre, scarlet flood. In a flash, the two had separated to regroup and assess the damage, barely noticing the vicious battling beneath them.

A bullet of darkness and fire burst into the air, spilling a black flame down onto the deity of Fire. Another quickly followed as Vincent sprayed more and more of his ammunition in Ifrit's direction. Yet another perk of being bonded, his bullets automatically converted before they even left the barrel of his gun. He was also able to blend with the darkness, a useful skill, but essentially ineffective in the current situation.

His boots slid through the mud as he darted and ducked, unable to get a firm traction in the slippery soil. A fireball exploded to the left, throwing him off course and causing him to flip backwards to avoid it, squeezing off another shot as he did so. Ifrit barely managed to outmaneuver the bullet, it exploding ineffectually over his head.

"Heh, heh, heh, foolish mortal," Ifrit taunted, flame practically spewing from its fanged mouth. "You cannot harm me with your puny bullets."

It was with much disgust that Vincent realized the deity was all too correct. But he wasn't about to give in nor respond to Ifrit's taunt either. It was beneath him.

Instead, he fired another round and skillfully moved to avoid the spray of fireballs heading his direction. A well-cast Shield protected him from most of the damage when one slipped through his defenses.

Ifrit snarled and darted forward, leaving rings of dried out and crusted soil in his wake. Vincent prepared for the assault, his clawed hand twitching at his side. Suddenly, Ifrit reared mid-step and growled, thrashing about wildly. Vincent was confused until he caught sight of Archer, grinning like some damn fool and clinging tenaciously to the deity's back. Fingers dug into a hairy hide as poison seeped from his skin, immediately soaking into Ifrit's bloodstream.

"Take that," Archer hissed, though there was a slight hint of mischief in his tone. He wasn't one to be daunted by a bit of battle.

Ifrit growled and swung his body about, hunching over before throwing his arms back with a wide surge of strength. Archer went flying from his back, dislodged by the move, and landed with a wet snap in a muddy puddle. A quick glance by grey eyes and Vincent was assured of Archer's health before returning his attention to the battle. In the distraction, he squeezed off a round, managing to catch Ifrit in one of his massive shoulders. The fire deity roared and darted towards him, tired of playing games.

Unbeknownst to the gunman, Balaam was finally tiring of merely watching the battle taking place. He licked his lips in anticipation as he thrust a clawed hand to the side, a gleaming pole arm swirling to existence in his grip. With a malicious grin, he stalked towards the fight and by proxy Vincent, his hatred for his former host greater than his anger towards those he had deemed traitors. The ex-Turk didn't even notice his advance, too involved in nimbly avoiding the sharp swipes of Ifrit's claws.

A short distance away, shaking the mud from his body and trying to blink the cascading rain from his eyes, Archer slowly rose to his feet. He coughed, ribs aching from the harsh slap into the unforgiving ground. Amethyst eyes raked the battlefield, only to realize Balaam's intentions with stark horror.

"Vincent! Look out!" Without even thinking, the engineer thrust himself to his feet, sprinting so quickly across the battlefield that for a moment he almost thought he was flying. His labrys flew into his hand as he skidded in between the gunman and the deity, at the very last second parrying the attack of the dual-bladed polearm. The metal met with a fierce clang, the sheer strength reverberating into his arms and making them go immediately numb.

He stared into angry dark eyes seconds before pain, sharp and agonizing raked down his chest, immediately covering him in a wash of warmth. Blood sprayed into the air.

"Archer!"

Vincent called his name, Kyle dimly realized as he gasped, feeling as if someone had stolen his very breath. He must have successfully alerted the ex-Turk to the back attack. Then something exploded in front of the engineer, both bright and dark at the same time, driving Balaam a short distance backwards as Archer sank to his knees. Weakness spread through his entire body and he faintly comprehended that he might very well be seriously injured.

Yet, he couldn't afford to die. Not while the battle still raged. "Don't worry about me!" Archer ordered, already groping around with his unnumbed hand for his dropped weapon.

Balaam laughed, the paltry bullet not enough to affect him. "Your attempts are really quite pathetic." He sneered viciously, less amused and more annoyed. "Why Kami lets you mortals have freedom I'll never understand," he commented before violently kicking Archer in the face.

The engineer went crashing backwards, unable to defend from the attack, his grip on the labrys lost completely. He slid across the mud before sprawling, falling unconscious. Blood streamed from his broken nose.

Balaam's dark gaze centered on Vincent, who was now attempting to divide his attention between both of his foes. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he sprinted to the side, danger flaring up his spine. His wings aided his movement as he barely avoided the vicious slice of one of Gilgamesh's swords.

"I have only myself to blame for your actions," the older deity hissed, beginning to stalk towards his son with a blade ready in each hand. His once bright crimson cloak was nothing more than a tattered, mud-encrusted cloth. "I must be the one to stop you."

The Chaos deity grew taut with anger. "You would even raise your blade to your own son?" he demanded with incredulity. "How the faithful have fallen!"

"Don't speak to me of propriety when you are trying to kill all those that ever loved you!" Gilgamesh snarled, springing forward. Not even the mud was a deterrent to his skilled feet. Father and son meat with a deadly clash, a brilliant sparkle of metal on metal that reverberated through the air.

Meanwhile, nearby to the familial duel, Vincent was slashing at Ifrit with his golden claw, just managing to catch the deity across the forearm and draw blood. Ifrit snarled and retaliated, shoving a hand filled with fire towards Vincent but the gunman was not waiting around to be struck.

He flipped backwards out of the way, ragged and dirtied grey cloak flaring out behind him. He squeezed the trigger as he did, an exploding darkness bullet clipping Ifrit through his left side. Something like poison but not nearly as debilitating began to spread through the wound. Vincent neatly landed but promptly slipped in the slick mud, barely managing to catch his balance.

Something went flying past him, the huge bulk quickly defining it as Minotaur, only for him to careen directly into Ifrit, knocking both deities to the ground and subsequently, a rather large puddle. Still somewhat reeling, Vincent quickly dropped to one knee, reacting on instinct alone. His fingers rapidly formed a sign of some unknown origin against the muddied ground.

It pulsed and throbbed upwards before rippling towards the collapsed demi-deities. Chains sprouted from the soil, clanking as they wrapped around them. Within seconds, the two were restrained.

Before Vincent could even begin to ponder on this, Baal appeared at his side, shoving one palm towards the captured enemies. A ball of dark energy gathered in his grip, swirling and crackling with shadowy force. When it had grown sufficient size within seconds, Baal shoved it towards them. It quickly enveloped the two demi-deities in a void of nothingness, twisting their bodies in unnatural ways.

It was both horrifying and amazing to watch until Minotaur and Ifrit dissolved into nothing, presumably returning to Elysium. With that taken care of, Baal offered a clawed hand down to his temporary animus and quickly hauled Vincent to his feet. The ex-Turk thought to voice his thanks when an abrupt and sudden strike of fear splintered down his spine.

He swung his gaze across the battlefield, catching sight of Erebus losing ground against Cactuar. Somehow he had gotten his back to a wall of prickly plants and had nowhere to maneuver. Vincent surged forward, with every intention of helping his animus against his foe, until Baal's arm gripped him by the shoulder pulling him back.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, whirling on the winged deity in the same moment that he rapidly reloaded the Hell Fire, popping bullets into the cartridges faster than he could count.

Baal merely shook his head. "Your aid is unnecessary for that battle," he explained, dark purple eyes watching as Sephiroth joined Erebus against Cactuar, holding the swift-footed menace at bay long enough for the Underworld deity to get the upper hand. It was mere seconds before Cactuar was dissolving away into a greyish mist.

Vincent wrenched his shoulder from Baal's grip, irritated with the deity's seemingly cold order. His senses prickled... he could still hear the sounds of battle, the unmistakable downpour of the rain and in spite of that, beneath it all, an eerie silence of his instincts that didn't speak well for their victory.

It was a silence only broken by the worried cry of "Archer!" from somewhere above them. Vincent and Baal immediately looked up, finding Tiamat shimmering as she glided to a landing beside her animus. Archer still lay motionless on his back from where Balaam had kicked him.

There was a surge of power, subtle yet obnoxiously potent. From beside Erebus, Sephiroth swung his gaze to the east. His eyes widen when he caught sight of something invisible striking into Tiamat, forcing the goddess several steps backwards. She didn't even have time to utter a warning before she froze in place, each movement carefully detailed as though trapped in a box of ice.

Another deity, this one robed in deep scarlet landed in the direct center of the battlefield, delicately touching ground. Still, she somehow seemed untouched by the elements, lacking both mud spatters and wetted clothing. It was as if the rain feared to strike her. Pale eyelids shielded her gaze.

"Even the Goddess of Order finds herself lacking!" Balaam cackled madly, his former opponent nowhere in sight. Were it not for the lack of sudden emptiness inside, Sephiroth would have feared that Gilgamesh had been defeated. "Against Elysium's best kept secret you are nothing more than flies!" he continued, slashing a hand through the air as chaos glinted in dark eyes. "Persephone, take them down! Show them your fury for your imprisonment."

The woman's eyes suddenly snapped open, full of golden fire and staring directly at Baal. A vicious smile curved at the corner of her lips, still somehow managing to be seductive. Murder hung there, just waiting to be unleashed. Sensing this, Baal reacted on instinct alone. He had just enough time to violently shove Vincent out of the way and into a portal of his own making before he intercepted an aggressive, psychic attack, much like being slammed into by a shield made of pure rock.

Baal was only able to slow his backwards propulsion by thrusting his wings out to the side, head spinning from the painful blow. He slumped to the ground, coughing up blood as something shifted wetly inside of him. The damn goddess had broken at least one, if not several of his ribs and one had punctured his lungs. Blood dripped wetly from a huge gash in his side where his flesh was now missing. It would all heal in time, but he feared he wouldn't be given enough time to try. And he highly doubted Persephone cared for the old laws. She would kill, not defeat.

"Dad!" Erebus snatched up his fallen scythe, fear gripping his heart. He turned, determined to rush to Baal's aid, but Balaam unrepentantly intercepted him before he could get two steps.

The Underworld deity snarled. "Get out of my way!" he demanded, swinging his scythe without second thought. However, Balaam was far older and far stronger. He caught the weapon in his claw and wrenched it from the younger's hold, tossing it uselessly to the side.

Without further ceremony, he gripped Erebus' shoulders with his hands, claws digging through the tattered, black fabric. "You are my son!" Balaam roared in his face, flashes of regret and despair blanketing his expression. He was practically shaking the other male in his distress. "Not his! Baal is nothing more than a foul traitor! A deity who would desert his closest friend."

"And what does that make you?" Erebus shouted in return, wincing at the pure strength of his biological father's grip. He couldn't wrench free even if he wanted to. "You who were blind to even the simplest truth?" His eyes desperately darted past the immovable force of Balaam, catching sight of Persephone blasting Baal once more, a seductively evil look in her eyes.

Baal was barely able to block the blow, having scarcely enough energy and concentration to call up another darkness void to pull in the attack. Still some snuck through his defenses, putting tatters in his wings. The Gravity deity was no match for a goddess who was the eldest among them. It was likely only Seiryu or Isis could stand up to her might, or even the extinguished Kronos.

"You abandoned me!" Erebus continued, his eyes flashing fire in his anxiety to get free. Persephone meant to destroy Baal. "Not the other way around."

His words had the desired effect. Balaam recoiled in shock, his grip loosening enough for Erebus to summon one of his chains and strike the older deity with it. Distance was gained and Erebus summoned more and more of the metal links, attempting to bond the much stronger deity. Balaam grunted and strained, flexing enormous muscles before shattering the chains as if they were nothing more than strings.

He thrust his hand to the side, summoning up a pole arm. "You care about him enough to attack your own flesh and blood?" Balaam demanded, shaking off the remains of the links and stalking forward.

"It is no more than you are doing to me!" Erebus countered, casting his gaze about for his earlier tossed scythe. "I made my decision long before I stepped into his battle." He paused in his retreat, squaring his shoulders. "I am fully prepared to do what must be done."

"And that is to be my purpose," a voice declared, suddenly appearing at Erebus' side. It was Gilgamesh, bleeding from a cut in his shoulder and missing one of his three swords. Otherwise, he appeared unharmed. "Your folly is my own, son," he finished.

Dark eyes darted between his family members, claws tightening around his pole arm. "It has come to this," Balaam hissed. "No matter. Just like you, I, too, have chosen my path."

* * *

On the other side of the battlefield, Sephiroth surged out of the stormy mist, blade poised to attack Persephone. He was the only one capable of coming to Baal's aid.

He couldn't be certain if it was his feet splashing through the mud puddles or if Persephone had incredibly enhanced senses, but before he could get within twenty feet of her, she turned to meet his attack. Golden eyes glinted mischievously as she raked her gaze over his form, watching with interest as he gritted his teeth in determination.

"Don't you hide some pretty secrets," she purred before raising her eyes and locking gazes with him.

The world seemed to spin and then freeze all in a moment. Sephiroth's sword fell to the ground from nerveless fingers. His body began trembling before he abruptly screamed an unearthly sound, clutching his head as if to hold it together. Terror and shame poured from his lips while Persephone watched on, completely impassive.

"No!"

_Needles, filled with something bright, filled with something gleaming... but most importantly, filled with something to make him burn. Then a jagged scrape and a question._

"_How fast do you heal, boy?" _

_Another and another, blood welling up, glowing even in the dim of the laboratory. And pain. He cried but he was slapped so he stopped. He cried on the inside, burning gulps down his throat to keep the fear contained. _

"Stop!!"

_Hands... always so cold, gripping tight enough to leave bruises. He hated those hands; he loathed their presence. He loathed what they did to him. The touch should have been slimy, but was cool and dry. It felt slimy. He wanted to wash himself, to bathe in boiling water and scrub with lye soap until his skin peeled away._

_But he knew he would still never feel clean. Nothing could wash away this taint. It was like a tattoo, branded into his skin, like a festering, invisible scar that no one could see but he knew was there. Nor would he scream, he kept each outcry behind his tongue, even going so far as to bite down and draw blood if only to keep his silence. He refused to give that man the pleasure. _

"Make it stop! AHHHH!" Sephiroth threw his head back, screaming as green flames started to lick across his body. The memories were coming faster now, a terrible tide of his past that he had wanted to forget but now knew he couldn't. They were etched into his soul.

Persephone laughed as she furthered her concentration, entrapping Sephiroth in an endless scream of all the nightmares that haunted his sleep. It was almost natural for her to use such an attack and as such, provided her with the chance to build up for the use of her final attack. It was a psychic pulse, strong enough to wipe clean the mind of any mortal in a three-hundred mile vicinity, leaving them with little more function than a newborn. They wouldn't stand a chance then.

Amused golden eyes watched as Sephiroth curled into himself, arms clutching around his body as if to hold himself together. The scream had faded into a silent sobbing with the echoes of the last scene and his knees had buckled. Then he began to laugh, low and maniacal. It was a frightening noise that chilled the blood of all those within audible range. Except for Persephone, of course.

Bang!

Persephone suddenly grew stern as a gunshot resounded around them, Vincent striding forward with his gun raised purposefully. He headed to Sephiroth's side, his eyes flickering towards the former General in concern before returning to the seductive goddess. "Whatever you are doing to him, stop it right now," he hissed in demand, firing off another round. It flew by her head, detonating harmlessly in the air. However, Vincent knew his aim was true so he couldn't be certain if he missed or if she dodged it. The female was an anomaly.

The smirk was quick to replace the grim look, brought upon only by surprise. "Should I play with you, too, I wonder?" she asked rhetorically, her eyes feeling as if they looked straight through Vincent and into the depths of his soul, where every tattered and scarred piece of him hid in the darkness.

"There are some interesting truths hiding in your head. Shall I make you relive the past as well?" Her gaze slid past him, looking at something that stood just beyond his stance. Vincent stiffened when he realized just whom was there. "Or maybe this would be more amusing instead?"

It wasn't until then that he realized Sephiroth's strange and frightening laughter had stopped, to be replaced by an eerie silence that crawled on the air. Vincent's senses prickled, flaring to life so quickly they felt almost tangible and he ducked, dashing to the side and narrowly avoiding an enflamed fist. He whirled around, finding Sephiroth with empty, slitted eyes, shining a brilliant mako green. His lips, curled into a vicious sneer, and the rest of his stare were so reminiscent of the final battle that Vincent almost believed that he were back in the crater, fighting Jenova once more.

... Jenova? Had their suspicions been true after all? But he had no time to ponder on this... he barely had time to dodge.

"Sephiroth! What are you doing?" Vincent demanded, jumping backwards to avoid another strike as Sephiroth swung at him with an Ultima-enflamed fist. Vincent recognized that greenish fire now.

There was no response from the former General, causing Persephone to laugh, though it was a cruel and taunting jibe. "He can't hear you, my dear. All he can see are his memories." Her lips curled into a dark smirk. "He thinks you are the cause and reason for his pain."

Sephiroth flung himself forward again, with little regard to his own safety causing Vincent to leap backwards. His fingers were rapidly switching cartridges in the Hellfire, trying to find something that was incapacitating and not deadly. Perhaps if he could capture Sephiroth in the chains, he could restrain him without hurting him.

"You bitch!" Vincent hissed angrily, shooting her a firm glare. He could only wonder what horrors Sephiroth faced in his mind, especially if they were anything like Vincent's own.

The goddess only licked her lips, unperturbed by the obscenity. "You are beautiful in your anger." She paused, very obviously raking her gaze over his body. "I wonder... do you scream as deliciously now as you did then?" One finger curled towards the gunman, beckoning him. "Should I find out? Should I--"

Her words suddenly cut off mid-thought. Persephone's eyes bulged as her entire body appeared to freeze in place, as though a Stop spell had been cast on her. Golden orbs blazed with fury and the sound of glass shattering pierced the air, much louder than the pounding rain.

Vincent wasted no time in pondering on the circumstances. He turned a backflip through the air, avoiding Sephiroth's attack and firing a round midflight. The stun bullet flew true, slamming into Sephiroth's shoulder and causing him to jerk in surprise. Using the momentary paralysis to his advantage, Vincent landed smoothly and dropped to one knee.

His palm slammed to the ground as he once again summoned the chains. They sprang from the mud out of nowhere, wrapping around the former General's body and binding his arms to his side. No expression registered on Sephiroth's face; he didn't even put up a struggle. He merely slumped in defeat, falling to his knees and hanging his head. His body was visibly trembling.

His reactions were so completely different to what they were before that Vincent had the sudden thought that perhaps the mental onslaught had ended. Grey eyes flickered to Persephone, finding that her face was drawn with anger. Perfectly manicured fingernails twitching but she was making no large movements, as if something was holding her in place. Yet, vincent could see nothing.

Confused, he scanned the battlefield, his eyes widening in surprise. Behind his line of sight, a battle of a different kind had been waging. Erebus had somehow overcome Balaam and had rushed to Baal's side, helping the injured and bloodied deity. But more importantly, Balaam was in equally dire straits as Persephone, under the restraint of a beautiful woman unlike any Vincent had ever seen before. Her loveliness was more serene, giving off a loving aura more than Persephone's seduction. And she stood before Balaam, not even touching and still somehow keeping him in thrall.

The winged Chaos deity shook with anger. "What are you doing, mother?" he shouted, face crunched as he tried to wrench himself out of invisible bonds. "Release me!"

Vincent could only watch the proceedings from the corner of his eyes as he slowly circled towards Sephiroth, whose head continued to hang. He was certain that if he managed to catch the former General's expression, shame and regret would both be present. Losing control of himself was a fear that Sephiroth suffered from, and without Zack there for stability, he had no one to fall back on.

Around them, the rain was gradually beginning to lessen in its intensity, as if whatever power had been driving it on had finally loosened its hold. The sky was lightening with the coming of the day but it could not erase the cold chill that seemed to have permeated the island.

The unidentified female, a goddess judging by the sheer power that emanated from her form, shook her head. "No, my son. I cannot." Her face was beautifully solemn and full of sorrow. "It is my burden to stop you... even if it means taking your life."

"Isis!" Gilgamesh moved towards her, slogging through the mud, only to stop when she reached out and held a palm towards him. "But the law--"

Her expression said enough. "--does not matter to me," Isis finished for her husband. "I cannot allow this to continue any further. Balaam has done so much..." she paused, turning back towards her eldest child. "Too much."

Coal-crimson eyes narrowed. "Even you?" Balaam snarled, hands clenching into fists so tight that blood dripped to the ground. "Even you would raise your hand to your child?"

"It is a parent's duty to take responsibility for the actions of her child," Isis responded, a strange look glinting in her eyes. She dropped her arms as she took one step towards her son, a pulse of power skating across the ground and

slamming into Balaam with enough force that he jerked.

Surprise registered quickly. "Mother! That is--!"

Isis nodded. "Yes, the forbidden method. But I have broken one rule already, by stepping foot on this soil. And I will break more if only to end this madness."

"You'll kill him!" Gilgamesh argued, slashing a hand through the air. "You'll kill yourself as well. Stop Isis! This isn't the only way."

But the tawny-haired woman merely shook her head, dismissing his pleas. "It is," she responded softly, moving towards Balaam with slow and determined steps. "He will never cease his foolish misunderstanding and he is deaf to our pleas." Her eyes swung to the raging and frozen Persephone briefly. "And her madness can only be stopped in this manner as well."

Gilgamesh paled so quickly that he could easily be mistaken for a ghost as he whirled around, scanning the battlefield. A fear had settled in his heart, along with the realization that there was nothing he could do. He could not stop his wife and risk setting Persephone free once more, nor could he change Isis' mind. She was stubborn and in many ways, Gilgamesh knew that she was right. It had taken Kronos the time before...

"All of you, get out of here now!" he ordered, swiping his hand as he hurriedly sheathed his swords.

The ground began to rumble and the subtle buzz of power through the air became a dull roar. His hair stood on edge and his spine crawled as if a million currents of electricity were dancing on it. Isis was going to destroy Persephone and Balaam and herself in the process. There was no way, despite her great strength, that she could control that amount of power. It was impossible.

"I'm not leaving without the others!" Vincent yelled as he released Sephiroth from the chains.

It was obvious that the former General was no longer under Persephone's influence, but he was now acting little more than a puppet. He was listless, obeying Vincent but otherwise doing and saying nothing at all. Vincent couldn't be sure if it was shame that kept him locked inside, or if the onslaught of memories had broken him.

"There is no need, Vincent. I evacuated them to a safe place prior to arriving here. You are all that remains." Isis' eyes flickered to her husband, softening with the extent of her emotions. "Take care of them, nali'min."

Gilgamesh bit his lip, trying to keep his composure as anguish filled his heart. "You're telling me to leave you," he uttered lowly, shaking his head. "You know I can't do that."

"Shut up!" Balaam screeched, growing increasingly terrified. "Just shut up, the both of you!" He jerked violently but was still unable to move as freely as he wanted. He concentrated and flared his power, trying to break the invisible bonds that Isis had entrapped him with.

She cried out softly, recoiling slightly as pain stabbed through her mind from his attempt. Yet, she remained strong as the feeling of power continued to build. It was like static electricity, thick in the air and invisible. The entire area pulsed and throbbed with it.

"This sappy little moment tires my patience! Release me, mother!"

"It pains me," Isis murmured, visibly trying to regain herself. "It breaks my heart, Balaam, to see that I have failed you in such a manner. I thought I had taught you the truth but I see now that I was mistaken."

She closed the distance between her and her son, wrapping her arms around him. To Vincent's surprise, she was taller than Balaam. None of that mattered; however, because the moment they embraced the feeling of energy became stifling, almost choking.

Tiamat, freed from the Pandora's Prism by Isis' appearance, shook her head. "So it has come to this," she murmured, eyes filling with sadness. She swiftly blinked her way across the battlefield to where Sephiroth and Vincent were working together to heft up Archer.

She cupped Archer's face gently, relieved to find that he was only momentarily unconscious. He would awaken soon and have a headache, but he would not be trapped within a coma. Tiamat glanced over her shoulder at the continuing drama.

"What is she doing?" Vincent questioned, hunching slightly to accommodate Archer's shorter stature.

Tiamat shook her head, the beads in her hair clinking quietly. "She is doing what she believes is right to save her son. It is not my right to deny her that need."

The gunman's brow crinkled in confusion. "I don't--"

"It doesn't matter," the goddess interjected, rubbing a finger over Archer's face in concern. "It will be explained in due time." Before Vincent could question her again, a murmured 'Migro!' transported the four of them out of the area.

Feeling Tiamat evacuate the others, Gilgamesh turned towards his grandson. "Erebus, get Baal out of here!"

The Underworld deity nodded as he hefted up his adoptive father, holding Baal's injured weight on one of his shoulders. "I understand."

Baal shook his head however, resisting the movement. "Leave me behind, Erebus," he murmured raspily, dark purple eyes set on Balaam. "I betrayed him once... it is my duty to try and save him since I am much to blame." He sagged a bit, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe under the press of magic. His wounds were healing far too slowly. "I should have stopped him before this all began."

Erebus' jaw set with anger as he grabbed Baal's arm, jerking it ungently and ignoring the state of his adoptive father's wounds. "You are an idiot!" he hissed, paying no attention to proper decorum for speaking to an elder. "Leave the past where it belongs. You are no more to blame than Isis!"

Baal's eyes widen in surprise but it still felt as if his heart were breaking. Even more so for knowing that it would have pained Orthrus to hear the words he had said. Yet, Baal couldn't help his heart. There were unrequited feelings there, things he had never confessed. And a part of him would always yearn for his best friend, the deity he had loved for a little over seven thousand years.

"Don't make the same mistake," Erebus continued, his voice low with anger. "Don't betray another!"

The sky crackled around Erebus' words but it was only because Persephone had shuddered, managing a single step through Isis' hold. She was fighting it... and gradually succeeding. Isis could not afford to delay any longer.

Gasping, Isis to some extent sagged but managed to clutch onto Balaam all the tighter. "Go!" she cried, her knees buckling. The ground beneath her began to crack and crunch, splintering under the force of the combined energies.

At a loss, Gilgamesh swallowed back his tears as he took a step backwards, away from Isis. "We'll meet again, nali'min," he murmured, before blinking across the battlefield. He grabbed both Baal and Erebus and before either could utter another word, he was teleporting them away.

He aligned their appearance with where the others were located, able to find them by the feel of their energies. Gilgamesh blinked into existence on the top of a mountain of a small island in the lagoon which overlooked the other. From that distance, they could not pick out Isis and the others, only able to locate them by the column of crackling energies that was rising into the sky.

Baal slumped to one knee as they appeared, his strength failing him in both heart and body. Immediately, Orthrus rushed to his side, having been freed from the prism earlier by Isis. Erebus stepped aside and let the older deity take his spot, moving to see to Asclepius' health. He had been worried for her during the battle. Kneeling on the ground, Baal allowed Orthrus aid but couldn't bring himself to meet Orthrus' dark eyes. They were all too much like Balaam's.

"What is going on?" Vincent questioned again as he helped Archer to sit beside both Reno and Tseng, all three men under the gentle care of Asclepius as she worked to heal their wounds. "What is Isis hoping to accomplish?"

"The greatest sin of our kind," Erebus murmured in response, shaking his head. He would be losing both his biological father and his grandmother. "As Raijin, Fujin, Iblion and others with them, Isis is destroying Balaam and Persephone so that there will be nothing left of them on Gaia. Nothing but the magic of their materia."

Silence descended on the tiny group, all eyes turning towards the island except for Baal who couldn't bear to watch. Sephiroth stepped away from the others, silent steps taking him beside his anima. He was still reeling from the effects of Persephone's attack and as such, couldn't seem to force any words through the tightness in his throat. Instead, his eyes, now back to their greyish-green shade, watched as the island rapidly began to crack and crumble. The sky was even thundering and booming with deafening noise, belied by the bits of sun peeking through the formless grey.

"It was her choice," Gilgamesh whispered in a low tone, his voice thick with grief. "I knew she was distressed over the loss of Bugenhagen but..."

The former General had no words to say. Lingering remnants of his past circled throughout his mind and he knew of nothing comforting. It would only sound hollow coming from his lips. However, he was saved from commenting when water suddenly shot from the cracks in the island, forming huge, steaming geysers.

The island began to sink, rumbling as water spilled over its banks. A giant explosion suddenly rocked the land, flaring brightly and tearing up sheets of rock meters thick. They rippled outwards in the wake of the oncoming destruction, turning to mere powder. The entire island cracked in two as a giant crater spilled water into the air and the mass of land began to sink beneath the water.

"May you be reborn, my friend," Tiamat whispered, lowering her head in sadness. "And let us meet again." She stepped forward, placing her hand on Gilgamesh' shoulder and squeezing it companionably. "I am sorry, Gilgamesh."

The God of Destruction blinked back tears. "She blamed herself for Balaam's path and nothing I ever said dissuaded her." He sighed heavily, sorrow evident in his expression. "Perhaps it was meant to be." He felt a pang in his heart, a deep emptiness where once there was a wellspring of affection.

Gilgamesh turned away from the sunken island and raked his gaze over their injured and barely survived team. The fate of the others at Fort Condor came to mind. "Sometimes I wonder if victory is worth the cost."

Reno was the one to stir at this, his injuries not enough to render him unconscious. Aquamarine eyes were sorrowful, but the evident recklessness was gone, replaced by a resigned melancholy. "Don't be ridiculous," he sputtered, not caring that he was chastising a god. "There's no such thing as flawless victory!"

"He speaks the truth!" A voice echoed from around them. "Believe it or not, Reno actually has a brain up there, yo."

Each deity present stiffened at the recognized voice but the mortals were confused. They looked around for the perpetrator, finding none until a form suddenly appeared in front of everyone, landing at the height of the mountain highland they were perched on. He was rather unspectacular compared to the other demi-deities, wearing a set of brown, cotton robes and standing shorter than every deity present other than Asclepius. Soft green eyes were ringed by straight brown hair.

However, at his appearance, the immortals instantly dropped to their knees. "Kami-sama," Tiamat breathed, bowing her head. "My lord, it has been centuries."

Vincent's eyes widen as his gaze darts between Erebus and the others, but they do not see it, all of their eyes trained on the ground. "This is Kami?" he asked incredulously, gesturing towards the plain-faced male.

The man smiled broadly. "None other!" he declared brightly before suddenly disappearing, only to reappear next to Vincent. He leaned closer as if to whisper in his ear, one hand up to block his mouth from prying eyes. "I know everything, yo. Can you believe it?" He winked.

The moment Vincent turned away to look at him, Kami blinked back to his original position. He looked down at his demi-deities. "Rise, immortal ones. I have much to say to you." Pale green eyes lifted to the mortals. "I have much to say to everyone, yo."

* * *

Thanks everyone! We're getting close to the end now! 


	72. The Balance

**Chapter 72: The Balance**

Understandably, it was a tense moment.

Standing on the top of a rather large mountain that overlooked the destruction of an island, most of them battered and bruised, even grief-stricken... yet, they were waiting for Kami to speak. The god of it all, as it were. The deity whose word was law. Some were pensive, some were nervous... some were already contrite and others...

"What the hell are you doing?" The sudden shouted demand surprised everyone within audible range, immortal and mortal alike. They jumped in surprise, hearts pulsing a shocked rhythm in their chests.

Kami's brown eyes darkened as he eyed his deities. "You're meant to be guardians!" he continued in that same tone. "I go take a small one-hundred year vacation for the first time since the beginning and look what happens!" He gestured vaguely to everything around him before rolling his eyes and rubbing his forehead, a move that Sephiroth recognized all too well.

"What am I going to do with you?" he finished in an exasperated tone, shaking his head.

Reno edged closer to Asclepius. "Are you sure this is Kami?" he asked in a loud whisper, trying to somewhat hide behind the petite female just in case it turned out to be true. No point in pissing off the god of all gods, after all.

Kami's gaze instantly flitted his direction as he twirled his free hand in the air. "Wanna test it, kid?" A small crackle of energy sparked from the tip of his finger, flaring a blue flame.

The Turk shook his head and slid further behind his anima, despite the fact that he was a head taller than her. "No, thanks," he responded, suddenly feeling very nervous.

The deity was smug. "That's what I thought." He turned his attention back to the other gods, causing a few to shrink back in slight fear. "What a fine mess you've made of things!"

Erebus blinked, somewhat confused. "Us?" he repeated, mind rapidly trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. "But my lord--"

Kami waved a hand through the air, immediately dismissing him. "Yes, I know. It was Balaam. He started it, blah, blah, blah. The lot of you are worse than mortal teenagers." He rolled his eyes, his lips pulling into an amused smirk. "Nevertheless, if you hadn't insisted on rules that I never gave you... many lives would have been saved."

Archer couldn't help but gape a bit, surprised by Kami's frankness and lack of formality. For the god of gods, he was a shock. Amethyst eyes flickered to his anima, finding that she was properly chagrined and even flushing in embarrassment. She vaguely resembled a child who was receiving a scolding, guilt plain in her expression. He just couldn't fathom it.

Kami, however, was blithely continuing, even going so far as to wave his finger at them. "I never said anything about staying out of mortal business like that." He paused, putting a hand to his chin as he considered. "Perhaps the only ones not at fault here are those that did break the rules. Lot of good that did them since they are gone."

A gasp came from the crowd of immortals before Erebus moved aside, revealing a somewhat limping Baal. "Then... you cannot restore them?" he questioned, knowing that the return of Isis would relieve much sorrow.

He shook his head. "It is impossible. Even I cannot restore an immortal life to its original existence. The power would be there... perhaps even the same appearance, but the mind that you love, the personality that you know, that can never be repeated or renewed. The laws of life are different for mortal and immortal." He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "That is why I made it so difficult to actually slay a demi-deity."

Gilgamesh lowered his gaze. "I knew it was too much to hope for," he commented, more to himself than the others but Kami heard him nonetheless.

"I regret the loss of all my children," Kami responded softly. "Yet, Isis made her choice and perhaps it was the only way. I cannot say for not even I know the undetermined future." He paused, his eyes trailing away from them for a moment and looking somewhat lost before he brightened and changed his train of thought. "Anyways, here's what I'm going to do. My plan backfired so I'm stripping everyone of his or her powers"

A collective gasp echoed around the mountaintop, none of the demi-deities expecting that punishment. They were the _faithful_, the ones that had not turned with Balaam, who stayed true to their ideals. Why were they being punished as well? It seemed so _unfair_.

Kami quickly held up a hand, silencing the inevitable questions. "Wait, I'm not finished." His gaze darted around, taking stock of those present once more. "Those that chose to fight and protect the planet, even those that broke the rules to do so, will remain guardians and keep their powers, though they must continue to support the materia. Those that tried to destroy everything will be stripped completely and placed only in the materia. Those that were neutral, well... I shall tell them myself."

A somewhat malicious look crossed briefly into Kami's plain features before he smirked and turned towards Reno and Nanaki. He gestured towards them, beckoning with his fingers. "Give them here."

He received two sets of blank looks in return. "The black materia, please," he expounded, a bit of irritation seeping into his tone. Honestly, did he have to explain _everything_?

The two males dipped their hands into their pockets, simultaneously reaching out and handing over the swirling, greyish orbs. Kami plucked them from their hands and raked his gaze over the smoky interior.

"My dear boys, you have become troublesome," he commented with a shake of his head. With that, he handed the two over to Vincent, who accepted them somewhat reluctantly. "There. Now you have three. Keep them safe and watch over them, use their abilities in battle if you must. The materia will hold them sway much like a summon."

Vincent appeared suitably perplexed, again an understandable reaction. "Then I don't..." he trailed off, unwilling to repeat the request that had been asked of him earlier, as if by saying it aloud would make it all too true.

The deity waved a hand of dismissal. "Of course not. Why would I deliberately ask you to do something so terrible when it didn't even work so well the first time? There is no need. After all, these idiots are the ones who misunderstood my words." He jerked a thumb towards the other immortal beings standing behind him. Gilgamesh was barely hiding his annoyance while Asclepius was smiling. The others remained chastened.

"I never said anything about keeping the balance," Kami continued, throwing the words over his shoulder to them.

There was a moment of silence before a tentative voice came from the crowd of mortals. "Then... there is no balance between good and evil?" Tseng asked with a slight frown.

Kami chuckled. "Haven't you learned anything, yo?" He placed one hand on his hip as he gestured towards his immortal children. "There is no such thing as good and evil... only power and those too weak to refuse it."

Asclepious bounced forward when she heard him speaking those words, his very statement something that she had always believed in herself. Not to mention she was excited to meet Kami, whom had never officially met before. "That's what I thought," the bubbly demi-deity chimed in, frowning slightly. "I didn't want to see Vincent go through all that trouble again but the others wouldn't listen.

Hands ruffled her soft green hair affectionately as Kami smiled, the expression lighting up his surprisingly youthful facade. "I know, Asclepius. The elder generation always ignores the younger, eh?"

She beamed up at him, instantly proud of herself and preening under the attention. Kami turned from her and raised his eyes to the rest of the immortals. "You are guardians alone now," he explained. "I trust that you will defend this planet and its occupants well."

There was a low murmur of understanding. Yet, there was one goddess who could not remain silent. "Does this mean... we cannot speak to our animus' any longer?" Tiamat asked quietly, furrowing her brow.

Kami sighed. "The bonds will remain for they lay in deeper magic then I care to remove but much of the communication will fall silent." He knew that they would not be pleased to hear this, but in his wisdom, felt it would be best. Perhaps the mortals did not need these great powers to aid them. Certainly so far it seemed they had managed to do nothing but cause more harm.

"Then... we are going to be forgotten again?" Asclepius' gaze fell, sadness creeping into her garnet-shaded eyes. "But... I just got to know Ichigo... and I wanted to meet the babies when they were born." She pouted, lower lip sticking out cutely. Her sorrow was infectious.

"And I have yet to teach Tseng suitable methods for handling his powers," Orthrus added, squaring his jaw.

With just one look, Kami could see similar arguments in the eyes of the others. The bonds this time around were truly strong, perhaps the strongest he had seen since the beginning of the anima designations. Yet, that didn't mean it was so easy either.

He quickly held up a hand, cutting off any further protests. "I understand," he responded softly. "Believe me, I do. You will still be able to converse as I said, but your only physical form will be through the materia."

Suzaku sighed, shaking her head, beads clacking noisily in her hair. "It does not seem right, for us to be punished for the mistakes that Balaam chose to make."

"It is not a punishment," Kami assured her. He realized that it may have seemed one but given time, they would all understand. "I simply believe that we should entrust Gaia to the mortals. Within time, even the power of the materia will fade. I want that for them. I want to believe in their desires to grow and prosper."

The phoenix looked properly chagrined but Kami took a deep breath and looked past her, his gaze finally setting on the mortals. He had nothing left to discuss with his children, any further grievances they would bring up at a later time. But he was limited in how long he could spend in visible form and he still wanted to speak with the heroes. And what a motley crew they were: a random assortment of murderers, thieves, terrorists and such, yet, somehow all heroes in the end.

His lips curled into a smile. Perhaps his wife had had the right idea all along. "You did well, guardians of Gaia. I apologize for the trouble my children have given you."

Vincent frowned, thoroughly confused. "Your children?" he repeated. "But... aren't we all?"

Kami waved him off. "Well, yes, in a way. But you were my wife's idea, truthfully." He jerked a thumb towards the demi-deities. "This bothersome lot was mine."

"Wife?" Reno parroted, blinking in puzzlement. He was beginning to lose grasp of this conversation.

Brown eyes rolled. "Don't you know anything?" he demanded with an air of exasperation. "Holy cripes, what are they teaching these children in school?" He sighed and shook his head.

Then a tentative voice rose out of the crowd of mortals, almost hesitant. "Guardians? You mean... were destined to fight this?" It had been Tseng.

Kami raised a brow. "Destiny?" he repeated, sounding bemused. "Who said anything about that?" He chuckled lightly, wagging a finger of disapproval at the Wutaiian. "Don't go putting words into my mouth, boy. You chose your path."

Tseng blinked. "Then fate has nothing to do with it? I'm to believe that my entire life is one string of coincidences and... bad luck?"

"Something like that," the supreme deity responded. When the others gave him an equally blank stare, Kami pursed his lips, realizing that he was going to have to give further explanation. "You see, there's this thing about destiny and free will. You can't have both. Either you have a path, or you're given a choice. So I chose free will."

Sephiroth frowned, this concept foreign to him, especially since he had been raised to lead others. Letting them choose for themselves was not in the job description. "Even if it means they make the wrong decision? But then... what is the purpose of rules? Doesn't that interfere with free will?"

"Not if it infringes upon the rights of others to make their choice," Kami countered reasonably. When met with several more blank stares, he continued by adding in an example, "By forcing a war that would have benefited only himself, Balaam broke the most basic, cardinal rule. It's kind of like... killing someone destroys their right to live. Understand?"

Reno furrowed his brow. "So then... Balaam was evil right?"

"It's not that simple," Kami explained as a light wind began to stir, bringing with it an unseasonable cold chill. "Balaam chose his path and though it may not have been good, it was the right one for him. He's the only one who can determine that. Just like each one of you have to resolve it for yourself. I can't and won't tell you what to do. Balaam never even realized that he was already free."

Sephiroth shook his head, no more clear than before. "I do not think I understand."

"Few do." Kami's smile was sad, betraying his true emotions. For once, he looked every inch of his eternal years. "It is a rather difficult concept and why many languish in sadness." He took a step back to the surprise of many, snapping his fingers. Every deity suddenly disappeared, only to reappear behind him, looking startled. They hadn't expected it.

"The battle is over," he continued, "and with the destruction of the Highwind, you are all a bit out of a ride. So I will give you one."

Archer blinked, feeling as if he had suddenly been thrown from a roller coaster with the sudden change in Kami's demeanor. "That's it?"

The supreme deity nodded. "Yes. I really can't see anything that I haven't covered." He put a hand to his chin and tilted his head as he considered it.

Reno jerked to his feet. "What about Reeve, yo?" he demanded hotly. "What are you going to do about him?"

Kami suddenly ah'ed in understanding. "Ah, yes. I had nearly forgotten about that." He crossed his arms behind his back and leaned forward. "You wouldn't want to spoil the ending, now would you?" he asked, his tone bordering on playful. A smile quirked at his lips.

The Turk was not amused in the slightest. Aquamarine eyes narrowed. "You're just playing games with me." One hand clenched into a fists, remembering the surge of emotion that he had felt when he had assumed the same from Seiryu.

"Boy, you're just a bit too high strung for your age." Kami shook his head. "Calm down. I never said he wasn't going to be all right, did I?"

"Nor did you say he was," Tseng countered logically.

The supreme deity smiled. "No, I didn't, did I?" His eyes twinkled as if hiding some great secret. "The future isn't for you to know but to find out. It's not set in stone or written in some book. It's an empty page waiting to be filled and you are the only ones who hold the ink." He laughed loudly, the sound somehow managing to put all those who listened at ease. "So that's my thought of the day. Keep it close!"

His words echoed around the top of the mountain and before anyone could even blink or comment, he snapped his fingers. Every mortal disappeared in front of their eyes. With that, Kami turned around and looked sternly at those remaining. His children were expectant and hesitant both as they returned his gaze.

"Let us return to Elysium then," he explained. "I have much explaining to do as well as dealing with the traitors. There is a lot of work to be done."

* * *

Electricity tingled in the air nearly palpable. The air shimmered, throbbed and pulsed, even seemed to break in half before spitting out an array of passengers onto the grassy earth. Sephiroth and his crew promptly collapsed to the ground, falling to their hands and knees as they were overcome with fatigue. A few even coughed, still unused to the immortal method of travel.

Sephiroth groaned, his head feeling as if it would split in two as he raised his gaze and looked around. Despite the weariness, it appeared that every one of his team had been fully healed. They were tattered and worn, but nevertheless alive. They had come through unscathed this time around.

The former General slowly rose to his feet, turning on one heel to find that they had arrived at Fort Condor and it was still standing. It didn't even look to be the site of a battle, which sent a surge of relief flooding through him. Around him, the rest of his crew slowly rose to their feet, some registering surprise.

"Reeve," Reno murmured under his breath, thinking back to Kami's vague answers. "Maybe…" he trailed off as he darted forward, wondering if perhaps something had happened in his absence.

Sephiroth watched him go, feeling incredibly tired. The battle was over and done with; he should have felt victorious. Instead, he was overcome with a heavy weariness and the desire to fall into bed and sleep for centuries. He didn't want celebration, he didn't even want to be bothered. He just wanted to curl up and never emerge into the light of day. He felt tainted somehow, and only belatedly realized that it was the lingering truth in his mind that gave him that feeling.

No wonder he had forgotten much of his past. His mind must have subconsciously blocked it. He never would have guessed that he held so much pain, or that his hatred for Hojo could grow any deeper. But it had. And now he could barely look at the others, much less want to see a mirror. He didn't want to see the man he was now, knowing how tainted he had been in the past.

He didn't want to see how fractured he had become.

"Reno is right," Vincent murmured, distracting Sephiroth from his grim musings. "The battle was not long but perhaps there has been some change." As he spoke, he was unclipping his bronze claw from his hand, removing the weapon. He was reminded, in that moment, of the three materia Valentine now held in his pocket. They would be formidable as limit breaks in the future.

All eyes turned to Sephiroth and he waved dismissively. "The battle is done," he ordered quietly, his tone obviously weary. "You've no more requirement to listen to me."

_If they even did in the first place_, he thought to himself. Even as he did so, he missed the strange emotion that flickered shortly over Tseng's face from his words, an odd musing flash.

The former General left them behind then, not caring to issue any further orders. He was concerned for Zack and now that the war was over, he knew he would not be leaving his best friend's side. There was nothing left for him to do. Sephiroth stepped forward without another word and disappeared into the darkened doorway of Fort Condor, missing the brief exchange of glances behind him.

"Sephiroth does not seem like his normal self," Archer commented in a worried tone.

Beside him, Tseng did not respond, his silver eyes watching Sephiroth's exit. The former general truly looked haggard, dark circles, which had only grown deeper in the past few days, ringing his eyes and his shoulders slumped with weariness. Lines of stress were working their way into his usually youthful face, aging him by several years.

Archer turned his head towards the Turk commander. "Neither do you for that matter," he added in a gentler voice.

Tseng shook his head. "Persephone's attacks are of a more cruel nature, mental rather than physical," he explained, recalling his own brush with her vicious fingers. "I wasn't able to stop her."

"Nanaki!" The joyful cry interrupted their depressing conversation, causing both men to look up in surprise. Yuffie was bounding out of the cavern entrance from Fort Condor, looking as if she had never been injured in a battle.

The smile on her face was infectious as she threw herself at the demi-human, nearly tumbling him to the ground. A light flush spread across his cheeks as he hugged her back, unused to such outward displays. She said something else in that excited tone, but from the distance, neither male could make it out. Nor Nanaki's murmured response.

"You blame yourself?" Archer asked, returning to their original line of speech. Amethyst eyes watched the Wutaiian perceptively. Although they weren't as close as Reeve was to Tseng, Archer would like to think they were friends and his concern was genuine.

Beside him, Tseng drew to a halt, a frown curling his lips downwards. Archer ceased walking as well, waiting to hear the Wutaiian's response. Tseng stared at the rocky ground in contemplation, one hand curled around the hilt of the one sword he had managed to save. The other was lost forever in the destruction of the island.

The engineer took a step forward. "Tseng?" Archer repeated, somewhat confused as to the Turk's behavior. His hand reached out with the intention of grasping Tseng's shoulder but it was shaken off just as quickly.

Tseng shook his head, pushing past him. "It does not matter whether I do or not," he responded shortly, sounding distinctly troubled. "This war is over. We should celebrate," he finished, hardly noticing as Archer watched his exit with concern. The Wutaiian disappeared into the darkness of Fort Condor, passing quickly by both Nanaki and Yuffie in his haste.

The engineer frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in his belly. Yes, it had been a victory, but painfully bought. He was left standing on his own, watching as despair and regret flitted in the eyes of his companions. His friends felt pain, but there was little he could do for them. Not for Reno or for Tseng, or Aeris, who lost a husband, or Elena. His consolations were nothing but empty comfort to them. He had the feeling that this would be one triumph that would not be celebrated.

He sighed, wishing wholeheartedly that he could speak to Tiamat. But since Kami had sent them away, he hadn't heard anything from the Myst Goddess. And the usual place in the back of his mind where he could always feel her presence was conspicuously absent. It left him feeling uncomfortably alone.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Archer trailed along after the others, hunching his shoulders against a brief, bitterly cold wind. No one was waiting for him to return and he took small comfort in the fact that no one he truly loved was lying injured in a hospital bed. He worried for Reeve, but wouldn't disturb Reno for the moment. And he doubted Cid desired his presence either. It left him with little other options.

Pausing directly before he entered the dark maw to Fort Condor, Archer half-turned and looked back towards where the island had once been located. Dark grey clouds were slowly clearing, turning the sky back to its usual azure hue. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips, though it was slow in coming.

It looked as if it was going to be a beautiful day.

* * *

Vincent passed through the nearly silent hallways of Fort Condor, half noticing that the element of fright and urgency had disappeared. No one ran through the halls carrying desperate missives and supplies weren't being raced from one corner to the other. It was as if the entire world had known in an instant that the battle was won and the planet was saved.

His boots clomped hollowly in the empty corridor and around him; yet, he could still scent the bitter odor of spilled blood and ash from the battle. It was nauseating but Vincent refused to bathe until he had assured Cid of his health. He didn't want the pilot to lose himself again.

On his way to the infirmary, however, his nose twitched at a familiar scent. Cigarettes, and Cid's brand for that matter. Vincent paused in the middle of the hallway, swiveling his head towards a door to his left, barely cracked open. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he peered in through the small slit, a slight sigh of exasperation slipping through his lips before he could stop it.

Shaking his head, he pushed open the door and slipped into the small waiting room, closing it shut behind him. "Should you even be up?" he questioned as his eyes found the blond pilot across the room. He was sitting on a window seat, the pane pushed open, with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"And smoking?" Vincent asked, eyeing him critically. Cid's arm was still in a sling, and he had found his clothes somewhere, though he hadn't bothered to pull on anymore than his blue jeans. The lack of clothing revealed just how much weight he had lost, sharp lines amid skin that wasn't as tanned as it used to be.

Cid calmly flicked ash out the window, a slightly cool breeze wafting in through the open panes. "You just came back from savin' the world and that's the best you can say to me?" he asked with a snort, observing his lover from the corner of his eye. He took another drag of the nicotine.

Grey eyes rolled as Vincent crossed the floor of the room. "You're so stubborn," he commented with some amusement.

He stepped forward and slid one arm around Cid's waist, placing his chin on the pilot's shoulder and staring out the window with him. Thanks to the seat, the pilot was at the perfect level, despite the gunman's greater height. Not that there was much to see.

"Besides, we didn't really do anything. In the end, it was the demi-deities who defeated Balaam," Vincent added, taking comfort from his lover's warmth. This sort of affection was unusual for him, but it was also something he knew Cid needed from time to time.

"Figures." Cid fell silent for a moment, his body gradually relaxing into Vincent's hold. He had been worried, the ex-Turk could tell that at a glance. Every muscle in his body had been rigid, and the lines on his forehead had deepened him, aging Cid even further. "I see you didn't do anything stupid."

Vincent lifted his hand, gently tracing Cid's still bandaged shoulder. "If you want to yell at someone for being an idiot, you should talk to Archer," he murmured.

The blond raised a brow as he stubbed out his cigarette, shifting on the seat so that he could face his lover. "What?"

Grey eyes slipped past him, looking out the window where the sun was starting to peek through the grey clouds of the dissipating storm. "Between he and Reno, I can't be certain who was more reckless in battle."

The pilot let loose a low string of curses. "That idiot," he muttered, gaze shifting to the side in contemplation. Despite everything that happened, he and Archer were still friends and he didn't want to see him die.

It was Vincent's turn to lift a brow. He shifted into the window seat, leaning his back against the wall. "Should I be jealous?" he asked, with some amusement.

Cid spluttered. "Don't be ridiculous. Archer's Archer. And he's a stubborn ass that refuses to die so don't go thinking stupid things."

Vincent couldn't help but laugh. Predictably, Cid's words made little sense to him. Not to mention he felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him. He wouldn't have to bear the spirits of the demons, which meant he could live as he had intended to, free from their influence and their gripping immortality.

"Don't worry, chief. I wasn't," he replied, before falling musingly silent. Cid muttered something under his breath that the gunman couldn't quite catch before he grabbed Vincent's hand, helping to remove the golden claw. It clattered to the floor noisily, causing the ex-Turk to unconsciously wince. Inwardly, he vowed that it would be the last time he ever used the damn thing.

A moment of silence passed between them, Cid unconsciously letting his fingers slide over the bared skin of his lover's hand. "Whatever happened with Balaam?" he tentatively asked, dreading the answer. "I mean, didn't Erebus say--"

Vincent shook his head, a hint of a smile curling at his lips. "Believe it or not, we were visited by Kami-sama himself." His hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out the three grey orbs, which still pulsed with power. "Balaam is dead but the others are here and it is where they will stay."

Blue eyes regarded him with much relief. Without thinking, he reached forward and grabbed Vincent by the cloak, dragging his lover in for a kiss. The gunman didn't protest in the slightest, moaning slightly as Cid's tongue dipped into his mouth and traced along his lips. His hand slipped up of its own accord, latching onto Cid's side and drawing him closer even as the pilot leaned forward, pressing their bodies together despite the awkward position.

It had been so long, it seemed, since they had found the time to be intimate. Between the battles and the healing and the grief, Vincent could hardly remember a time when there wasn't any. He could feel his blood stirring at the originally brief kiss that continued to linger, growing stronger with each passing second. Their tongues dueled, lips moving hungrily together as Cid pressed Vincent up against the wall of the window seat.

Tanned hands attempted to tangle in short blond strands as Cid's hand shifted to the window seat for balance, blood racing through his veins. A small noise of need escaped from Vincent's throat, his fingers curling tighter around Cid's bare side. As if that sound were the trigger, the pilot suddenly ended the kiss, leaving him slightly breathless.

"When were you going to tell me about the Highwind?" he asked with a hint of censure, staring directly into lust-glazed stone orbs.

Vincent winced. "You knew?" He hadn't intended not to say anything but it had slipped his mind the moment he had found his lover. He had expected Cid to be furious, especially since he didn't get to take revenge.

Cid gestured vaguely towards the inner workings of Fort Condor. "The crew randomly appeared here not longer after you guys left. Scared the shit out of a bunch of people, too." He chuckled at that. "Anyways, they told me."

The gunman sighed, fingers gradually relaxing from their intense grip. "I'm sorry, Cid. There was nothing we could do to save her."

He was waved off dismissively, something teasing tugging at the corner of Cid's lips. "Ah, she was outdated anyways. I got somethin' better up here anyways." He sat back and tapped his temple with a finger, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Especially now that you're here."

His heart warmed despite himself. "Cid…" But before he could say anything further, Cid suddenly jumped up from the window seat, surprising him with his actions.

"Well, that's it," the blond declared, running a hand over his head and resituating his ever present flight goggles. Despite the fact he was shirtless and shoeless, he still managed to wear the damn things. "Time to go."

Vincent blinked in confusion, reeling from the sudden topic change. "Go?" he repeated, feeling a bit left out of the loop.

His lover grinned as if he had some big secret. "Yeah. On our vacation." He jerked a thumb towards the door. "We'll sneak out before they try to drag us to a party or somethin'."

"But how will we get there?" Vincent asked, yelping slightly as his hand was grabbed and he was suddenly pulled from his seat. "You're still wounded," he added.

Cid shook his head, completely dismissing his worries. "Leave all that to me," he boasted, gesturing to himself with his injured arm.

Stumbling slightly from the quick pace, Vincent tried to keep up as Cid dragged him from the room and down the hall. Luckily, no one had yet to notice their almost desperate flight. "You don't even have any shoes, Cid!" he commented with some amusement. "And what about Cloud? I'm sure they want to give him a funeral."

Suddenly, the blond ground to a halt, causing Vincent to nearly crash into him. He whirled to face his lover. "You want to stay?" the pilot demanded a little more sharp then he had intended. "Don't want to go on a vacation with me?"

Vincent released an annoyed noise. "That's not what I said, Cid." He stared at the other man with some exasperation, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. "Besides, it's a date."

Predictably, Cid blustered. "I'm too fuckin' old fer dates!" he argued back shortly.

He grabbed Vincent by the cloak and jerked him close for another kiss, though this one managed to stay as short as he had intended. Just as Vincent began to melt against him, he broke off. "We'll toast Cloud a shot or something. He'll like that more."

"Cid…"

The pilot shook his head, abruptly spinning on his heels and grabbing Vincent's hand again. "No time for talking!" he declared, starting down the hall once more and dragging his hapless lover along for the ride. "Let's go before that ninja brat finds us."

Despite the fact that he was being dragged, even passing by a few people who were staring, Vincent couldn't help but smile. The look on Cid's face was like stepping into a memory. This was the man he had fallen in love with, a hopeless dreamer and forever spontaneous. It was like losing his heart all over again.

He thought nothing more of the metal claw that remained behind them, glittering golden in the light of the window's sun.

* * *

He felt as if he could lay down and sleep forever, never rising from his bed again. Except that he knew he couldn't so he kept moving. Now that the battle was done, Sephiroth knew exactly where he was going to return. No one else needed him and therefore it was back to Zack's side. He was determined not to leave until his best friend woke up again, unable to shake the heavy feeling of guilt that had settled in his belly.

He wished wholeheartedly that the other man were conscious. All of the conflicting and warring feelings inside of him, every flickering memory brought to life within his mind and reminding him of his shameful past were slowly driving him mad. He could feel it, the subtle press of something that wasn't himself. It was as if Jenova was back, whispering in his mind.

Sephiroth hadn't wanted to remember his past, honestly. It was something he would have been glad to keep buried, especially since he preferred the undetermined future. But now it had come back to haunt him, making him feel as if he had been tainted by a permanent stain. Again, the strange and sudden urge to scour his skin in boiling water until it peeled away struck him, though he knew it wouldn't ever wash that feeling away.

Just the recollection of that… that man… A shiver attacked Sephiroth's mind and he promptly put a latch down on that thought. He couldn't bear to bring it any further than a passing glance. It made his stomach physically ill.

It wasn't until then that he realized just how much he depended on Zack. When they had met, Sephiroth was a disturbing mix of apathy and timidity, throwing in a bit of cold impassivity that simply pushed all others away from him. He didn't know how to react around others outside of the lines set by military rules. And he felt distinctly uncomfortable in the presence of the cadets who were supposed to be his age. He was alone most of the time. Until Zack basically thrust himself into his life.

_Of all that he had endured at this kamiforsaken academy, mealtime in the lunchroom was the worst. It was pure torture to someone like Sephiroth, who preferred to sit alone rather than among the crowds. Not to mention the moment that he stepped inside, it was as if all eyes turned in his direction, watching every move that he made. It was disconcerting._

_Sephiroth had only just been promoted, though he was on the fast track to becoming General. He was ShinRa's golden child, their shining star. They expected everything from him. And he had little choice but to give it to them. He was twenty-two years old and every last moment of his life belonged to ShinRa. _

_It was something he had learned to accept, along with the perpetual loneliness. _

_The soon-to-be General quickly got his food, ignoring the stiff politeness of the serving soldiers and sat down at a table. Conversation swelled and rose around him, laughter joining in the other noise that only proved he was alone and the others were not. He pretended he didn't notice, however, and began to eat his food, slowly scooping the nameless glop into his mouth without even tasting it. _

_He kept his eyes carefully trained on the metal plate. His instructor's had warned him that the look in his eyes tended to scare the others. That they had an eerie gleam to him. Since then, unless he was intentionally intimating the cadets, he tried not to look at anyone. _

_There was a clatter as a plate dropped onto the empty table at his side. "Can you believe they're serving us this glop?" A voice demanded as legs quickly followed, slinging themselves into the seat as someone plopped down beside him. "How do they expect us to get strong?" _

_Sephiroth looked over to find Zack Loire, a relatively new recruit who was rising quickly in the ranks. He was smiling at him like he knew him, crystalline blue eyes unquestionably bright and cheerful. Mako green eyes blinked in surprise, finding that there was not a trace of fear or pity in Zack's gaze. Only complete openness and… kindness. _

_Zack continued, "Guess it's better than nothing, huh?" he asked, picking up his fork and digging the plastic ware into the uninteresting glop spattered onto his plate. Despite its gooey appearance, the food turned out to be as hard as a rock and dedicatedly ignored Zack's attempts at consuming it. _

_The silver-haired male could only stare at the other boy and his strange behavior. All interest in his food vanished until Zack elbowed him. "You like it?" he asked, referring to the meal slop. _

_Sephiroth shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the question. "It is nutritionally balanced and relatively inexpensive to serve," he responded carefully. He had been taught, after all, that ShinRa was infallible and to never speak against the company. Having been promised he would never return to that man's lab in Nibelheim if he obeyed, Sephiroth was determined to follow the rules. _

_Crystalline blue eyes watched him for a moment as if trying to decide whether he was lying before Zack burst into laughter. Somehow, it didn't sound like he was being derisive. "But do you like it?" he pressed, ignoring the attention he had gathered with his loud chuckling. _

_The older male blinked and looked down at the food. He had never really considered taste before, more or less eating because he was supposed to provide sustenance for his body. "I do not suppose I do," he finally answered honestly. He had been told to eat the food and so he did. That had been all there was to it. _

_Zack chuckled again, his grin somehow setting the uneasy boy at ease. He plopped his plastic ware down onto his plate and stuck out a hand. "Zack Loire, new recruit here with ShinRa." _

_He stared at the offered hand for a moment before finally accepting it, surprised at the strength of the lithe boy's grip. "Sephiroth," he responded simply. _

"_I think everyone knows that," Zack teased, nudging the other man with his shoulder. "You're kind of famous." _

_Sephiroth didn't respond, returning his attention to his unappetizing food. He had never thought about it before, but he really did not like the glop. Zack remained at his side, leaving Sephiroth to wonder why the boy was trying so hard to be nice to him. He didn't want to be pitied. Besides, Hojo had warned him against companions. They would only make him weak and that was a mistake Sephiroth could not afford. _

"_So when do you have maneuvers again, Seph?" _

_The soon-to-be General furrowed his brow. "What?" he repeated, not so much misunderstanding the question but unable to comprehend why Zack should want to know. _

"_Maneuvers," Zack repeated around a mouthful of meat mush . "You know, training in the field." _

_Despite elaborating, it still perplexed Sephiroth. "Why would you want to know that?" he asked, all interest in his food completely forgotten. Not that he had been hungry to begin with. _

_Zack grinned as he chomped through the biscuit on his plate, a task since it was hard as rock. He reached across the table and appropriated Sephiroth's as well. "Cause we're friends now," he responded in a matter-of-fact tone. _

_They were foreign concepts to Sephiroth. Friendship and friends were not part and parcel to the training regime for ShinRa's best. "Friends," he repeated quietly, still able to feel the eyes staring at him. _

"_Yep!" Zack chugged down the rest of his soda in a few big gulps before rising to his feet. He tossed the pilfered biscuit up and down in his hand. "Come on. Let's get some extra training." _

_Mako green eyes looked up in surprise, certainly not expecting Zack to continue speaking to him. Nor did the eyes that seemed to follow their every movement bother the vibrant man. Flickering his gaze between his unappetizing meal and the spiky-haired boy, Sephiroth finally rose to his feet._

"_Very well." _

_Zack smiled, nudging him with a fist as they stepped towards the door. "You think you can show me that move you did against Instructor Niosk? You kicked his ass."_

"_Unintentionally, I assure you," Sephiroth responded, wincing slightly as he remembered that particular incident. He had accidentally used his full strength against his hand-to-hand teacher and put the man in a coma. _

_The other boy shrugged, still tossing the rock-hard biscuit up and down in his grasp. "Either way, it looked awesome." He thumped a fist against his chest. "Angeal said I could wield the Buster Sword."_

_Sephiroth raised a brow. "Outside of the Masamune, it is the most difficult to master." _

_Beside him, Zack grinned cheekily, his eyes practically sparkling. "I know." _

In the corridor, Sephiroth couldn't help but smile lightly to himself. From that moment on, Zack had been a constant in his life. He hadn't intentionally tried to hide from the younger boy, but hadn't exactly sought him out either. Nonetheless, Zack had pushed and pressed until he became Sephiroth's best friend, his only friend truthfully. He was the only one who seemed to understand exactly what it was he needed to say and didn't seem bothered by any of Sephiroth's… quirks. If quirk was the word he was looking for.

Since that day, Sephiroth hadn't been alone. There was always Zack, and then later, Cloud to an extent and Aeris from time to time. He didn't know what to do now, with the loneliness and the silence. Zack had ruined that for him, making him a person who desired companionship. He couldn't return to that cold apathy.

"… There had to be hundreds of them, all ready to kill…"

Sephiroth paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. Now he was going crazy. He could have sworn he heard Zack's voice.

"--Next thing I know, Seph sneezes and wham! There goes the whole army!" Laughter followed, loud and very familiar.

Green-grey eyes blinked. He had not imagined that. A small treble of elation began to build then, beating rapidly in his heart and Sephiroth put on a burst of speed, nearly knocking over an orderly carrying in someone's lunch. He shoved through the doors to the infirmary, sending them careening wildly against the walls. His eyes rapidly scanned the room, which was mostly vacated except for the barely visible forms behind the curtains on the far end.

His gaze quickly fell on Zack's bed, surrounded by a flock of heart-struck nurses who were avidly listened to his very awake, very _alive _best friend who was again telling the tale of the infamous sneeze. Everything in Sephiroth's body froze in that moment, a great tumultuous cascade of emotion spontaneously exploding inside of him.

"Zack!" he exclaimed before he could stop himself, the joy in his voice evident. "You're awake!"

And there it was, that familiar cheeky grin that he always associated with his best friend. "Course I am, Seph," Zack responded. "I couldn't leave you alone here."

Zack understood all too well. Sephiroth sagged against the door, relief flooding through him. He didn't even have any words to say, his usual acumen failing him. He simply closed his eyes and tried not to cry, hating to appear weak in front of the gazes that were watching him. The nurses had even fallen silent, watching the interaction with hearts in their eyes as Zack slid from the bed.

"What am I gonna do with you?" the former SOLDIER teased evenly, stepping lightly across the room. "I'm gone for a few minutes and you fall to pieces on everyone," he added in a low murmur before pulling his best friend into a tight embrace.

Despite the eyes on them, Sephiroth could only cling back in return, the reprieve from the pain in his heart feeling as if a weight had lifted. He winced, however, at Zack's words. "You knew?" he rasped slightly, in a desperate attempt to keep himself from crying. The loneliness that had consumed him had lasted for far too long. He had been dangling from the edge and any moment, had feared he would drop into a madness from which he could not escape.

"Elena told me," Zack responded, sounding equally strained. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." He squeezed the older man a bit tighter before ending the hug, swaying slightly on his feet. After having lain in the bed for that time, his body was still recovering.

Gray-green eyes widened. "You shouldn't be out of bed!" he declared, sounding like a mother hen. "You should be resting." He placed his hands on Zack's shoulders and directed him towards the bed.

The former SOLDIER laughed, causing Sephiroth to redden slightly. "Seph, I'm all right!" he declared, though he acquiesced. It was rather cute the way his friend was fussing over him. "I'm not even injured," he added as he gestured towards his barely dressed body, climbing into the bed again. The nurses, seeing that all was well, scattered to their duties. "I can't mess up perfection, after all."

Sephiroth flushed deeper as he lowered himself down into the seat he had occupied every waking moment prior. "You're incorrigible," he muttered, though inwardly he was pleased to see that Zack was well enough that he was back to his usual joking self.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have me any other way," Zack answered back smugly. He sat back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head and not looking the least bit injured. He was still slightly pale however, reminding Sephiroth of all that had happened.

The former General shook his head at Zack's behavior before looking down at his hands, idly fiddling with his fingers. "Zack, what happened?"

Instantly, his best friend sobered. "Honestly, Seph, it's hard to explain." He paused, face darkening a little. "I felt it when Cloud died. The entire planet had cried out in sorrow and it was as if my heart had been wrenched from my chest. I lost consciousness for a while." He shrugged thoughtfully. "The planet had a lot to say."

Sephiroth's gaze shifted to the window, looking at the drawn shades and pretending to peer through the small gaps in the shutters. It was easier than facing the turmoil inside of him. "He shouldn't have died," he commented quietly.

Crystalline eyes watched him for a moment before Zack spoke. "Seph."

There was no response however and a feeling of concern flooded the former SOLDIER. He tried again. "Sephiroth," Zack repeated, using his best friend's full name as he reached out and grabbed the other man's shoulder, squeezing gently.

Sephiroth blinked and looked at him, something strange swirling in his eyes. That uncertainty did not fade in the slightest and Zack sighed, shaking his head. "Looks like I can't leave you alone for even a second," he commented with much regret. "You can't blame yourself for Cloud's choices."

"Maybe not. But I can blame myself for mine," he countered before quickly changing the subject, not wanting Zack to try and convince him otherwise. He peered around. "Why isn't Elena with you?"

Zack's eyes narrowed, a little perturbed by Sephiroth's dismissal; yet, he answered anyways. "She's with Aeris. Turns out Tifa attacked while you guys were gone."

"What?" Sephiroth was startled. And he had thought nothing dangerous had happened while they were gone.

"She tried to kill Aeris but Shera stopped her," Zack replied, sitting back against the headboard. One hand brushed dark spikes out of his pale face, still seeming vaguely tired.

Sephiroth raised a disbelieving brow. "Shera?" he repeated.

The former SOLDIER nodded as he began to relate the tale that Elena had already told to him, worry filling his heart to the core. Sephiroth listened to him, but he wasn't really there, mostly nodded in pretense. Something had happened to him that he wasn't telling Zack, something other than what the others had divulged.

There was a note of fear in his voice; a note of desperate terror and Zack was determined to find out exactly why. After all, it was his responsibility as the best friend. He had made the promise to himself that he would always watch over Sephiroth.

And Zack always kept his promises.

* * *

The quiet whirr of the machines was a counterpart to the gentle beep of the monitor, filtering through the darkness of the infirmary. The curtained off area was lit by only a few dim screens, illuminating three exhaustively unconscious faces. Earlier in the day, two of the sleeping forms had been watching the third without pause, hoping beyond hope that he would awaken as Kami-sama had hinted. But their hopes had been for naught, and both Reno and Reis had fallen asleep when their bodies could no longer keep them awake.

Propped up in chairs on either side of the bed, they continued their vigil. Reis had one of her brother's hands grasped between her own while Reno had one hand clasped onto Reeve's, his head falling exhaustively onto the bed with his other arm draped across his husband's legs. Archer had come by once to check on them, but decided against disturbing them, choosing instead to drape a blanket over Reis before leaving all else alone.

It was approaching midnight when something stirred. Reeve's head faintly twitched before his eyes slowly slid open, revealing amber orbs. He blinked before turning his head to the side in confusion, unsure of where he was. The last he remembered was a battle, surrounded by smoke and the smell of blood. He felt warmth and weight draped across his body and to his left, he caught the familiar sight of his sister's face but looking down, he found a familiar crown of bright red hair.

Reno looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept in days. His clothes were wrinkled and spattered with mud and blood in some places, and there were dark circles heavily ringing his eyes. His youthful features were more lined than when Reeve last saw him, as if he had suddenly aged within a short period of time. His fingers were dangling loosely in his husband's hold.

Though Reeve couldn't remember what happened, he had the feeling that he had worried his lover. With a light sigh, he lifted his hand from Reno's fingers and laid it gently on the Turk's head, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. His body was aching with a lingering agony, his head pulsing with the remnants of a headache. He felt like he had been strung through a wringer despite the fact he knew he had to have been sleeping for a long time.

Suddenly, there was a faint tingle of magic to the air. Reeve lifted his gaze to a darkened corner, watching as a body stepped out of the shadows with little subtlety. He recognized the individual in a second. It was Seiryu, his other.

"I am sorry," the deity whispered, his voice just loud enough to carry to Reeve's ears and pierce the hum of the machines.

Reeve frowned, furrowing his brow. "Why?" he responded hoarsely, voice raspy as the heavy feeling in his chest suddenly became prominent.

Emerald eyes flickered to the still sleeping form of Reno. Either the Turk was completely exhausted or magic was involved. "For the pain I have caused him. And you as well," the dragon explained.

His answer did not ease Reeve's confusion in the slightest. Before he could even ask however, Seiryu continued, "You have been unconscious through it all, my anima; therefore, you do not know. The war has ended, but not without its sacrifices. I'll let your beloved explain the rest. Suffice to say, you will not be seeing me again."

Reeve's mouth dropped in surprise. "What?"

The dragon was sober. "It is Kami's decision and I must obey," Seiryu replied softly. He stepped forward, closer to the bed where Reeve could see him better. "Our kind has brought yours much anguish and that I regret."

"I never blamed you," Reeve said with a shake of his head. He could probably guess what Reno had done, knowing his husband so well. "Reno is… emotional. He was only--"

Seiryu's eyes softened. "I understand his frustration. He had every right to be as angry as he was… and still is most likely." He sighed softly and shook his head, reaching out a hand and brushing his fingers across Reeve's forehead.

The President jolted as a strange shock flitted across his body, a warm flush spreading along with it. The heavy weariness gradually began to fade, leaving him feeling a lot better than he had. Reeve blinked in surprise as Seiryu withdrew his touch.

"There may still be some weariness but you are lucky you awoke period. You're heart is strong, Reeve," Seiryu murmured quietly. His eyes flickered to Reno once more before returning to his animus. "You'll likely need that strength. Again, I regret our mistakes and the pain that we have caused you." Something glistened in emerald eyes before the dragon took a step backwards and promptly disappeared, back to Elysium presumably.

Amber eyes were sorrowful as he laid back in the bed, watching the empty space. He internally searched his mind, looking for that small tingle at the base of the skull that had always signified his attachment to Seiryu. A surge of disappointment spread through his body when he no longer felt it. For some reason, it just didn't seem right and he felt as if he was missing something terribly important.

Just then, Reno stirred and Reeve's attention was diverted. The Turk twitched before his eyes fluttered open, his empty fingers grasping at the covers. A look of worry crossed over his face as he shot straight up, head swiveling towards his husband.

Aquamarine eyes met amber and for an instant, it was as if time stopped. Reno's heart skipped several beats in his chest and he wondered if he would ever breathe again. "Reeve," he whispered on an exhale, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

The President managed a weary, brief nod before Reno was throwing himself at the older male, wrapping his arms around Reeve's neck and pressing their lips together in a desperate kiss. Before he could stop them, a few warm tears trickled down his cheeks as relief spread through his body.

Reeve's free arm came up and wrapped around his younger husband, holding him tightly to his chest. He couldn't remember what happened, but judging from Reno's reaction, it had not been pretty. He could feel the Turk shaking against him, body wracked with thinly restrained sobs of release. Their kiss ended as Reno pressed their foreheads together, eyes clenched shut.

"Reno--"

"I thought you were dead," came the muffled response, interrupting him before he could even finish. Reno pulled back as his fingers moved to Reeve's head, gripping it almost desperately. "I thought you were going to die," he repeated, his voice sounding even more strained this time.

Their eyes met and somehow, Reeve knew it was his fault. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shamed by the tears shimmering in his husband's gaze.

Reno's thumbs rubbed against his face. "What would I do?" he demanded harshly, his voice hoarse in the silence. "What was I supposed to do if you left me? Why didn't you just listen, dammit?" He sucked in a ragged breath. "Why didn't you--"

"I'm sorry," Reeve murmured again, cutting off whatever else Reno was going to say. "I'm sorry." He had no explanations anymore. What he had wanted to do then, what he had obviously failed to do, seemed pointless in the face of his husband's pain.

The Turk had nothing more to say, his eyes sliding closed in an attempt to control his emotions. Instead, he pressed their lips together once more, inputting all of his panic, relief, and swirling emotions that had been attacking him. He had the fear that if he let go Reeve would disappear on him. The President understood all too well and slowly returned the kiss, sliding their tongues together. The motion was brief but invoking all of their true feelings.

"Never again," Reno muttered, determination burning in his eyes. "Don't you do that to me ever again."

"I'm sor--"

The Turk shook his head. "I don't want an apology. Just tell me you won't."

Chastened, the executive lowered his gaze. "I can't tell the future, Reno." His hand tightened against the younger male's back, pressing him closer. "But I won't willingly do that again."

Reno sighed. "You're such an idiot," he muttered under his breath. But he didn't let go. It was an impossibility he didn't want to consider, having to live on past Reeve. In his line of work, he had always expected to be the one to leave first. Reno had always thought that his husband was stronger than him whereas Reno would collapse and turn absolutely reckless.

"Yeah, I know," Reeve admitted honestly.

"I've told him that myself but he never listened to me," a female voice added in, surprising the two men in a moment.

They tilted their heads, surprised to find that Reis was watching them with amusement twinkling in her eyes, as well as much relief on her face. "Welcome back, nii-san," she continued, squeezing Reeve's hand in hers. "We missed you."

"Reis," the President rasped. "I'm sorry to have worried you."

She smiled lightly. "I knew you were coming back but we almost lost Reno for a second there." Her face sobered as the Turk coughed lightly and looked away, trying to pretend he hadn't heard her words. "That was a stupid thing to do, Reeve."

He sighed. "I know."

Her fingers tightened around his once more. "As long as you know that," she responded, rising to her feet. She patted Reno on the shoulder. "I'm going to go let the others know you're awake, those that aren't sleeping anyways, and maybe find you some food." She winked as she stepped around the bed, heading for the curtain. "I know you two want to be alone."

Reeve shook his head. "You're impossible," he responded as Reno shot her a cheeky grin, though it was significantly less jaunty than usual.

"Of course." She waved her fingers. "Be back later, Reeve," Reis finished as she stepped out from the curtains. Her quiet footsteps quickly faded.

In her absence, Reno climbed into bed beside his husband, linking their hands together. Nothing further was said, but nothing else really needed to be spoken either. He was content to simply know that Reeve was well and alive. That was all that mattered to him. And he was certain that the other felt the same way.

* * *

A/N: One more chapter to go and this monster will be finished! Thanks for reading!


	73. Ready to Dream Again

**Chapter 73: Ready to Dream Again (Epilogue)**

There were only sixteen eyes to watch the fading of the sunset, sixteen voices to murmur a soft goodbye to a man who had been friend, husband, and leader to them. While it had been for a short time, they had all eventually grown to love him and were now saying their final farewells. There was nothing to bury of him but their grief for his passing. They laid flowers of the very same kind that had once been gifted to him, at the etched stone on a high bluff overlooking Fort Condor.

Aeris managed to stand stoic, her eyes dry but her heart breaking with every passing second. Midori shifted restlessly inside of her, also mourning her father's death but there was nothing Aeris could do. Cloud was truly gone, joined with the Life stream, and there was no coming back for him.

She could feel it on her heart, a slow and tremulous gripping feeling. It was the grief, expounded greatly and reminding her that she was alone. She had her friends, her dearest companions, but there was no one to love her as Cloud had, with his goofiness and his confused attempts at everything he tried. Yet, he had found in his peace in the end and Aeris couldn't fault him for that. He had wanted to make sure his wife and child were safe no matter the cost, his desire to protect those that mattered to him intrinsic.

And she knew that the others would miss him as well.

No one knew where Cid and Vincent were. The two men had simply vanished sometime during the night after the victorious return. It was rumored that one of the fort's military helicopters disappeared as well. But that was only an idle gossip. No one was really surprised either. They had been through hell and back to find each other and deserved a little rest and relaxation.

But all others were present. The Turks had come, one by one, saluting the headstone and paying their respects to a man whom they had grudgingly come to admire. Rude, especially, was grateful, since it had been Cloud's bravery that had ensured the safety of his own wife and son. In his mind, he made a careful promise to help watch over Aeris. He owed her greatly.

Denzel stood side-by-side with his adopted father, little hand grasping desperately onto his as he tried not to cry. In his heart, he still felt that he was to blame for Cloud's death, despite the fact that the adults were assuring him otherwise. He missed Cloud's smile and how the blond had always been there to explain things in words he could understand.

Sephiroth himself held shadowed eyes, guilt warring inside of him with a ferocious hunger, taking away all relief he might have felt for their victory. His purpose in reviving had been to help protect the world, to right the wrongs he had forced upon it. Now he had more failures to add to the weight on his heart.

Cloud had trusted him and paid for it. There were things never said, questions never answered and Sephiroth would never be able to voice them. He had the feeling that if Cloud had lived, they might have become friends. He had hoped to make up for destroying Cloud's life after the war, but now, it was far too late.

Opposite from him, Reeve was whispering his own silent farewells, quietly thanking a man who had given him a second chance when no one ever wanted to trust him again. He was grateful for the fact that Cloud never pried and never demanded answers. And his hand, intertwined with Reno's, was all the comfort he would need.

Zack was solemn, a strength by the side of his two best friends, one hand clasped warmly around Aeris' to offer her comfort. His presence helped keep Sephiroth calm as well, lest the man shake himself to pieces. In his heart, he too, was saying goodbye. To a boy he had helped before, a rare friend in a place that seemed to breed only enemies.

It seemed wrong that Cloud should have been the one to die when Zack had only been restored to life. But the Planet had spoken, and the former SOLDIER knew that Cloud was not coming back.

No one had spoken at the funeral; there really was no need. Everyone had spoken their silent goodbyes without a single shed tear then promptly turned and filtered back into Fort Condor until only Aeris remained, staring dry-eyed at her husband's memorial stone.

It was a paltry symbol to a man that had given so much, but she knew anything grander would have made Cloud uncomfortable.

"They loved you, you know," she whispered softly, her voice carrying no further than her own ears. Still, she knew that Cloud would hear her. "You never thought you would have any friends but now… here they are, mourning your loss."

Her hand rested on her belly, rubbing across the mound comfortingly as she swallowed thickly. "I don't know how we're going to do it without you, Cloud, but we're strong, so don't worry. I've enough worried friends right now that I'm suffocating in them," she commented with a light smile, enough to pull a bit of a laugh with her lips.

A wind stirred, carrying on it the scent of the fresh flowers that had been laid there. She had requested they not pick them, so several flower pots had been scrounged and flowers planted in them. They were bright and scraggly against the grey of the stone, but she couldn't deny how much they suited Cloud.

Aeris took a deep breath, swallowing over the huge lump in her throat and blinking back the warm tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "I'm going to miss you, Cloud. You're irreplaceable to me and Midori both and I wish that you were here, with us. But I know that's impossible and I've accepted that."

Her eyes lifted upwards, to where the sky was darkening gradually as if a storm was impending. A fitting end to the day she thought. Her gaze turned back to the stone, tracing the letters of her husband's name.

"I love you, Cloud," she murmured quietly. "And I always will. Rest well."

With that, she pressed a kiss to her fingers before transferring it to the stone. Midori shifted inside of her, bringing a smile to her mother's face, as Aeris turned and walked away from the gravestone. It was the last official goodbye she would give.

The pain would never leave and he would always resonate inside of her, but dwelling was something he would never allow her to do and so she would not. She was determined to find a measure of happiness for her and her daughter, for Cloud's sake if not her own.

* * *

_And when he came to the place where the wild things are, they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws_--

The well-used page turned with a quiet swish.

_--til Max said "BE STILL!" and tamed them with a magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all and made him king of all wild things._

_"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus start!"_

"Seph?" The voice was sleepy and slurred as Denzel lifted drowsy brown eyes to the man he had attached himself to. He squirmed slightly in his warm position tucked beneath Sephiroth's arm, trying to look into the older male's face.

Gray-green eyes shifted from the child's book between his hands, down to the small child perched on the bed next to him. "Yes?"

Innocent eyes stared back at him. "Are you going to leave?" the boy asked.

Sephiroth blinked, surprised by the question. "I…" he trailed off, not wanting to lie, with his heart pounding in his chest.

Somehow, he had gotten attached to the child in the short time he had known him. He was used to hero worship from his days at ShinRa academy but the devotion that Denzel displayed was something entirely different. And the unconditional love and trust that Denzel radiated helped to cleanse him of the tainted feeling that had settled inside of him recently.

If someone as innocent and open as a child could stand his presence, then maybe there was something of worth left in Sephiroth after all.

The look on the kid's face was full of hope; he honestly hoped that Sephiroth had the right words to say to him. The former General sighed.

"Denzel, I will try," he responded, lifting his hand from the book to ruffle it through brown locks.

His touch appeared to placate the boy, but only for a moment. A look of serious concentration crossed his face, which was actually quite amusing before Denzel raised his hands and reached for something around his neck. It took several seconds for Sephiroth to realize what they were.

"I forgot to give them to you," Denzel mumbled as he struggled to detangle the military tags from his shirt, and failed miserably.

Sephiroth quickly covered Denzel's hands with his own and stopped his fumbling. "Keep them," he said softly. "You need them more than I do."

The smile he received in response would have lit the world. Sephiroth wondered if it was sane of him to be so grateful to someone who was only a child. Denzel nodded happily and snuggled closer to his adoptive father, eyes already half-sliding shut.

"You finish the story now?" he asked, his gaze falling on the colorful pages.

Sephiroth couldn't help but grin slightly in response. "Yeah," he responded warmly, ruffling the brown hair again. Clearing his throat, he lifted the book and attempted to pick up where he had left off.

_"And now," cried Max, "let the--_

"You read that part already," Denzel mumbled groggily.

"Right. I remember now."

_"Now stop!" Max said and sent the wild things off to bed without their supper. And Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all._

_Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king of where the wild things are._

_But the wild things cried, "Oh, please don't go—we'll eat you up—we love you so!"_

_And Max said, "No!"_

_The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him._

_And it was still hot._

The book closed with a quiet thump as Sephiroth pondered the children's tale internally. It was rather odd but if Denzel liked it, then he supposed he could endure. His gaze slid to the child, who unsurprisingly, had fallen asleep against him, murmuring softly in his slumber. A smile graced the former General's lips before he laid the book on the nightstand to his right then slowly eased out of the bed, moving carefully to slide Denzel down into a comfortable position.

He froze when the boy made a sound of protest, but when he merely twitched then fell silent again, Sephiroth slipped him beneath the covers and managed to escape from the bed. He ruffled brown hair once more, the only sign of affection he knew, before clicking the lamp next to the bed and slipping silently from the room. A nightlight dimly glowed on the far side of the room behind him, cascading star shapes onto the ceiling.

Outside, Sephiroth closed the door to the room with a quiet click. Aeris looked up when she heard the sound, calmly marking the page in the romance novel she was reading by lamplight in the relatively small common area of the room the residents of Fort Condor had loaned to her. They had been remarkably supportive when the friends had come to them for help.

"Thank you for the story idea," Sephiroth commented as he stepped further into the room, pausing by where she sat curled up in a chair, dark shadows lining under her eyes. "It put him right to sleep."

She smiled at him and rose to her feet, though somewhat laboriously due to her pregnancy. "It always works. My mother used to read to me," she replied, stepping past him and heading for the small mini-fridge that had been brought to their room.

Sephiroth nodded somewhat distractedly, bothered by the look of fatigue on her face. Given that the funeral for her husband had been not but a few hours earlier, it was understandable. The guilt flared up again, railing loudly in Sephiroth's heart and he belatedly realized that he had yet to apologize for his part in Cloud's death.

His gaze slid to the floor, not strong enough to meet Aeris' perpetually strong gaze. "Aeris, about Cloud…"

She shook her head and touched his arm as she passed, squeezing it gently and forcing him to look up at her. "You've nothing to apologize for," she said delicately, jade eyes warm and accepting. "Cloud trusted your judgment and made his choice. I do not blame you."

"Trusted me," Sephiroth repeated quietly before sighing. "I fear that there is some big secret about Cloud that I don't understand. Why did he trust me so much? Why admire me so deeply… beyond that of the typical recruit?" It was something he had never understood about the blond.

The flower girl regarded him curiously, as if surprised by the question. "Sephiroth… can't you recognize love when you see it?" she asked softly.

Gray-green eyes widened and Sephiroth took an unconscious step backwards, dislodging her grip from his arm. "Love," he repeated in complete shock, surprise evident in his features. He clearly hadn't been expecting that, not to mention that it was Cloud's widow who was telling him this information.

"But…"

Aeris watched him for a moment before elaborating. "Cloud's heart has always been divided between what he wanted and what he could have." A small smile, somewhat sorrowful, graced her lips. "I never felt second best or that I was a consolation prize. I know he loved me. There was just a part of him that always loved you, too."

"_Do you know how hard it is for me every time I look at you?"_

"_How hard it is when I remember you're alive?"_

"_Am I truly that beneath your notice?"_

Suddenly, the last time he had fought against Cloud, the words the blond had spoken before he handed over his leadership to Sephiroth began to make sense. Cloud had been trying to tell him then, that he had loved Sephiroth all along. And he had wanted Sephiroth desperately to notice. Yet, even then, the former General remained completely oblivious. No wonder Cloud had reacted so strongly when Sephiroth returned out of the blue.

Still, Sephiroth hadn't known prior to the events of six years ago. "Why didn't he say something?" the former General asked, completely bewildered. He had known of the admiration but love… that he couldn't comprehend.

Her smile was sad. "Would you have been able to?" she asked as she turned towards him. "Consider who you were, Sephiroth. Cloud was too awed of you to even think he had a chance."

It was decidedly awkward, to hear of Cloud's love for him from the mouth of the widow he left behind. His gaze fell to the floor. "You're right. I would have kept my secret as well." Never mind that he had already done that exact same thing with his crush on the Turk commander. In that much, Sephiroth could sympathize with Cloud.

Aeris stepped forward and patted his arm again. "Don't worry. Cloud was happy. He had Midori and I after all."

Sephiroth raised his gaze and nodded somewhat distractedly, still bewildered by what he had learned. "Yes, of course," he responded before noticing a strange look crossing her face. "Are you all right?"

Her hand moved to her belly, rubbing it gently. "It's just Midori kicking," she answered with a smile. Then her face turned mischievous. "Want to feel it?"

Sephiroth blinked in shock. "What?"

Aeris grinned as if she held some big secret. "It's really neat, I promise," she explained as she took several steps forward and grabbed his slack hand, lifting it up to her belly. "See?" And before Sephiroth could even think to pull away, she pressed his palm to her belly.

Gray-green eyes widened in surprise as he felt something move beneath his touch. The life inside of the flower girl was moving, little taps against the inside that he could easily distinguish with his fingertips. Aeris released his wrist, yet Sephiroth couldn't help but move his palm over her stomach. It was incredibly fascinating.

He didn't even notice when the flower girl watched him, incredibly pleased with herself for showing him something far better than the violence and bloodshed ShinRa had accustomed him to. "You ever think about having kids, Sephiroth?"

The question surprised him and he pulled back, running a hand through his hair. "No," he answered quietly. He hadn't had that much of a childhood himself. "I know nothing about raising children or anything like that." Not to mention that he was gay and about the only thing he could do was adopt, if he really wanted.

"Oh, it doesn't take much," Aeris attempted to assure him, moving to sit back down in her chair as a sudden wash of fatigue assailed her. "No one ever really knows anyway. They just make it up as they go along."

Sephiroth shook his head. "Maybe…" he trailed off, sucking in a breath as he remembered the original reason he had come to see both Denzel and Aeris. "I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor. I know that I'm in no position to ask something of you but…"

Jade green eyes were thoughtful. "I already told you that I hold no grudge. Please, continue."

The former General nodded. "I-- I can't be the stable influence that he wants me to be," Sephiroth explained, gesturing vaguely to Denzel's door. "I can barely take care of myself much less a little boy and there's something…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know if she's completely gone yet and I won't put him in danger like that. Would you look after him for me?"

Aeris blinked in surprise but understood completely. "I will but he'll want to see you, too."

"I know. And I promise to visit now and again, not to mention giving you whatever help you need." He twisted his hands together before realizing what he was doing and promptly shoved them down at his sides, refusing to look the part of a shy, unsure man.

The flower girl nodded. "All right. I will," she responded, and relief flooded the former General's taut nerves. At least one thing in his life wouldn't be ruined. He didn't know what he had done to be worthy of Denzel's admiration, but he was determined to never lose it.

* * *

He wondered, if he stared at it long enough, would he find all of the answers swirling around in the amber fluid? Would all of life's little mysteries suddenly be solved and the need for heartache and despair erased? It hadn't worked before but that was because he had always consumed it. Perhaps staring was a much better method for obtaining oblivion.

Tseng pondered this as he sat in the rather small bar at Fort Condor, mostly deserted this time of the day, or evening rather, as nearly all of the residents were either working or resting. Honestly, he should have been doing that as well, but he was useless as a worker and didn't dare close his eyes. Instead, he stared fervently at his untouched shot glass, wondering if he should bother to lift it to his lips. It had been sitting between his hands for the last two hours, but he hadn't even taken one sip.

The problem was that he wanted to. His mouth was parched, his stomach craving that subtle burn. He could feel them, the low buzz at the back of his mind and the quiet murmur of a thousand voices. He could hear their whispers, reverberating in his skull; even the brush of their breath tickling the skin of his ear was tangible. He wanted to drown it and them out, erase every subtle suggestion and cry of pain or loneliness. He listened now, but that didn't ease any of it.

Tseng desired solitude above all else at the present moment, wanting to bro—contemplate on recent events. He had to think about them, pick apart each instance and analyze it for hidden meanings. Though he had accepted it, they were still a gift he did not want. It didn't matter that he held some semblance of control now, or that the blinding pulse of their words in the back of his mind had become only a dull roar of pain. Their misery was only compounding his own.

Why didn't anyone ever want to bemoan their happiness? Why didn't they have pleasant things to speak of? His cold heart was unsuited for such gifts.

Tseng slumped in his bar stool, the chair screeching backwards with a staggered movement and sending an ear-splitting shriek through the bar. Neither of the other two patrons even looked up at the sound, already beyond sloshed. He hadn't asked what sorrows they were drowning. It was an unspoken rule in all bars, especially since Tseng had no plans to extrapolate on his own.

His mind, already fractured and running in a thousand different directions, turned to the past battle, the barely won victory. He saw his own defeat at the hands of the goddess, a ridiculously easy defeat that rankled his pride and filled him with a quiet anger. Not because he had lost, because no man was infallible, but because he had failed in his duty, he had failed Sephiroth. And now, Sephiroth's pain was a direct result of his inability.

Inwardly, Tseng cursed his own ineptitude. Persephone was no kind enemy, and he wished her attacks on no one, especially not the already frayed former general. It was as if she had dug her nails into his heart, ripping out every memory and twisting it in her hands before showing him the bleeding pieces.

Everything he sought to block, she magnified. He saw his mother's tears and his father's anguish, he saw his homeland disappearing as a boat rocked violently on storm-tossed waves. He saw the first person he ever killed for money, the fear and regret shining in her eyes and the pleas for mercy on red-painted lips. But worst of all was that she could summon up the emotions he had been feeling at the time as well, throwing them back into his face.

Tseng knew that Sephiroth had to have suffered the same. There was no excuse for his failure.

There was movement on the corner of his vision, followed by the screech of another bar stool as someone hopped up onto the chair beside him. Tseng tilted his head, not surprised in the least to find Elena perched there. Her eyes darted from the drink in his hand, to his eyes, and then back again before she lifted a hand, signaling to the barkeep. She called him over with a twitch of the finger then returned her attention to her commander.

"Tseng--"

"Shut up, Elena," the Wutaiian interrupted more shortly than he meant to. He had an inkling of what she planned on saying and had no intentions of hearing it. "I've not even had a sip."

Brown eyes blinked, completely unperturbed by his rudeness. "You were thinking about it," she responded stubbornly. "I thought you had overcome this."

Tseng sighed and pushed the drink away from him, the glass making a shhhhnk sound as it slid across the table. "It's not as if the snap of a finger solves everything," he muttered, staring dedicatedly at the amber fluid.

The barkeep chose that moment to appear, silently asking Elena for her order. She watched Tseng for a second before turning her attention to the bartender.

"Your best ale," she ordered briefly.

The man nodded and turned away, allowing Elena to return her gaze to her commander. "No, maybe not," she commented musingly, eyes searching Tseng's face. He looked weary and strained, much like Sephiroth.

A finger barely brushed the tip of the glass, moving it across the countertop with a definite noise. There was silence between them for a moment before Tseng sighed again.

"The battle… was not easily won," he finally said, knowing that he needed to talk about it but hating that he had to. As far as listeners went, however, Elena was his best choice.

His subordinate and friend both didn't respond, silently waiting for him to continue. Her drink was brought to her and she accepted it with a nod of her head, taking a sip.

"Balaam had awoken a goddess by the name of Persephone and her abilities were beyond our comprehension. They were similar to mine but far more powerful." He paused, drawing in a ragged breath and staring at the alcohol, practically able to taste it on his tongue. "It was like fingers were digging into my brain, picking apart my memories and finding the cruelest and most painful of them only to throw them back in my face. I was unable to stop her."

Elena's brow crinkled, a sigh escaping her lips. "Tseng--"

He shook his head, interrupting her. "It was the only order I had been given. I was trusted to put an end to Apocalypto. Instead, I shattered like fine glass in the wake of her power." He picked up the glass, contemplated it, then set back down on the table and signaled for the bartender. "Sephiroth is in pain because of my failure."

"You can't honestly blame yourself for that," Elena countered, watching as he handed over the untouched alcohol and asked for water instead. She admired his tenacity to try and stay sober. "From what I heard, even the other gods were nothing in the face of her power."

The Wutaiian was silent for a moment as he contemplated his water, taking a small sip of the cold and refreshing liquid. He wasn't going to argue with Elena. The fact remained was that he had failed and many were hurt because of that. Isis would have not been forced to give her life and Sephiroth would not have had to relive painful memories. The feedback from his conflicting emotions was enough for Tseng to understand just what Sephiroth was suffering.

Elena sighed and shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever understand you," she commented, taking a deep draw of the somewhat spicy ale she had ordered. It was rather tasty and she couldn't help but hum thoughtfully.

"You're not meant to," Tseng countered reasonably. His finger idly traced designs in the condensation forming on the clear glass. "I heard Zack awoke. How is he?"

She smiled then, reminded of her attempts to peek in on him and being thwarted by a motherly Sephiroth of all things. Not that he outwardly ushered her away, but it was just so cute she couldn't interrupt. She had caught Zack's eyes when Sephiroth's back was turned and that was enough for her.

She left them alone, and had recently caught sight of the former general standing all by his lonesome on the roof. Once that little problem was taken care of, she was determined to find Zack. But first... to deal with her commander.

"As near as I can tell, probably more well than he needs to be," she commented lightly, a slight chuckle escaping her lips.

Tseng raised a brow. "And you say I make little sense."

She laughed again, shaking her head as she downed the last of her first mug and signaled for another. "Sephiroth was hogging him again, making sure he had enough blankets and food and medicine, even though he didn't need any of it." Her lips curled into a wide smirk. "Zack was humoring him, of course. It was cute."

The Wutaiian tilted his head to the side, frowning slightly. He couldn't help the small bit of jealousy that tainted his heart, even if he knew that they were only friends and Zack was with Elena in some fashion. Besides all that, there was nothing between him and Sephiroth. Not that the knowledge quieted the green-eyed demon raging inside of him.

"That doesn't bother you?" he asked, though it came out more of a mumble as he stared at the grained wood of the bar top.

Her new drink clomped to the top in front of her as the empty was swiped away and Elena smiled at the bartender. "You would think I would be jealous. I should be jealous. Honestly, I've tried to be jealous." She sighed and dipped a finger into the ale, sucking off a few small droplets of the beverage before continuing. "But then I look at Sephiroth and see how much he needs Zack and all the jealousy I have falls flat. I just feel petty."

She shifted position, tipping her head to the side so that she could look directly at her boss. "I understand it now. All his life, Sephiroth has had no one. And now, Zack is the only family he can claim unless he and Valentine somehow get their act together. I can't be jealous of that." Elena smiled, revealing pure joy and not hidden pain, and laughed lightly. "Besides, ShinRa boy is absolutely hetero and pretty damn good at it."

Tseng flushed and coughed, shaking his head at his subordinate. "Not that I wanted to know that, Elena," he commented, trying to clear all unwanted images of her and the SOLDIER in a compromising position. There were just some things he did not want to see.

Elena laughed at him, loudly enough to disturb the one other sloshed patron in the bar. He looked up blearily before returning to his drink as Elena nudged her boss with her elbow.

"Don't worry, Tseng. I'm sure he likes you, too. Now why don't you go talk to him?"

Silver eyes shot towards her, slightly alarmed. "What?" Tseng repeated in mild disbelief, seemingly unable to wrap his mind around her words.

She smiled mischievously, tilting her head to the side and gesturing upwards with her eyes. "He's alone on the roof, brooding if I'm not mistaken. I think he needs some cheering up." Amusement flooded through her at the subtle reddening of her boss's features, especially since it was quite obvious what she was insinuating. "After all, what do you have to lose?"

"My dignity," Tseng retorted, recalling how he had been rebuffed before. It was humiliating. "I doubt he's any more ready now than he was before." He shifted irritably in his seat, taking a drink of his water and wishing he hadn't returned the alcohol. He could really use the liquid courage.

"How do you know if you don't try?" Elena countered smartly. "It certainly beats sitting around in a bar and pretending that water is vodka. Now that is what's pathetic, Tseng."

He grimaced. "Why am I friends with you again?" Tseng asked, sliding down from his bar stool and adjusting his clothes, attempting to look slightly less rumpled.

"What? Are you leaving?" Elena asked with a completely innocent air, trying not to laugh at her flustered boss. A few giggles escaped her nonetheless.

He shot her an annoyed look, idly brushing down a few loose strands of hair that had broken free from its usual unflustered appearance. "Either that or lose what remains of my dignity to you," he retorted sharply, shaking his head. "Goodbye, Elena."

Brown eyes twinkled with amusement. "Bye, Tseng. Give him a kiss for me."

Tseng glared at her, thought it was half-hearted before he left the bar, ignoring her enthusiastic wave of farewell. Elena chuckled and reached for her second drink, sucking it down until it was nearly half empty. With any luck, Tseng and Sephiroth would take now as the perfect opportunity to begin some sort of relationship. The two of them were just so incredibly awkward, despite all attempts at being cold and heartless. She couldn't help but think it was cute.

Elena signaled for another mug, knowing that she would be finishing the second rather quickly. It had been a while since she had sat and drank for taste, unlike her boss and Reeve, she had quite the tolerance for alcohol. And with the world saved and Tseng occupied, she could finally take a break. Not to mention the lingering remnants of Raijin's loss still echoed hollowly inside of her.

She quickly swallowed down the last of her second and handed over the empty mug as a new one was slid into place. The bartender's eyes flickered past her as he brought it but before Elena could turn to look, arms slid around her from behind and a warm body pressed against her back. Warm lips kissed against her neck. Elena knew by scent alone that it was Zack.

Humming in her throat, she relaxed into the strong arms. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" she questioned, shivering when a tongue slid along her skin, leaving a wet trail behind.

The spiky-haired man chuckled, rubbing his thumbs along her cloth-covered abdomen. "Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on our resident alcoholic?" Zack countered, breathing hotly in her ear.

Blue eyes rolled as Elena shifted in her seat, turning to look into his gaze. "I sent him to your commander," she explained with a mischievous grin. "And as much as I'd love to watch, they're awkward enough already."

With that, she closed the space between them and kissed him, hard and deep. Her tongue slid out of her mouth, teasing along the seam of his lips before dipping inside, tasting deeply of the fresh mint flavor. Zack's tongue was smooth against hers, stroking gently and coaxing her to deepen the kiss. She eagerly accepted, lips smacking noisily between them.

Zack hummed approvingly, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "You wouldn't happen to have missed me, did you?" he asked teasingly.

She raised a brow. "Don't ask stupid questions," Elena muttered, slipping her hand down and squeezing his. "Now, what say you we find somewhere a bit more private?"

The ex-SOLDIER laughed at her before quickly lifting her weight easily from the stool and setting her down on the ground. It always amazed the Turk how strong he was, since he wasn't exactly the bulkiest of men. Before she let him drag her away, however, she quickly dug into her pocket and threw some gil onto the table, both for her and Tseng's drinks since her boss had forgotten to pay before he left.

"I'd say that sounds just about perfect," Zack responded, taking her by the hand and leading her out of the bar. Elena couldn't help but smile somewhat lecherously.

Meanwhile, Tseng lingered outside the door that led to the roof of Fort Condor, peering out through the small looking glass. He could see Sephiroth standing at the far end of the platform, hands on the railing as he stared out at nothing in particular. On top of that, the former General was dressed down, wearing nothing but blue jeans and a t-shirt, looking positively edible. It was the first time Tseng had seen him in something other than black or armor. He rather liked the change though the clinging leather was attractive as well.

He was attempting to work up the courage to actually go outside, wanting to speak to Sephiroth but hating to bother him. The former silver-haired man seemed as if he were deep in contemplation, but also appeared exhausted as well, a somewhat weary set to his shoulders. And on the edge of Tseng's mind, he could hear the trickling of Sephiroth's emotions, an oscillation of feeling that he couldn't seem to sort out in his head, nor did he even want to try.

Sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm the unwelcome fluttering of nerves inside his belly, Tseng decided to at least apologize for his behavior earlier, when he had practically molested Sephiroth under the guise of alcohol. For a moment, he wished he had decided to consume the shot he had bought for himself.

Steeling his courage, Tseng finally pushed open the door without making a sound and stepped silently out onto the roof. His nose twitched at the scent in the air, that of an approaching storm. Sephiroth didn't even appear to notice that someone else was out there with him. Tseng approached, his Turk stealth keeping his silence though he hadn't meant to sneak up on the other male.

"Are you hiding as well?" he asked tentatively, voice breaking the calm quiet of the roof. It was an attempt at a joke.

The taller male startled in surprise, having been completely lost in thought. He half-turned as Tseng moved to the railing beside him. "I'm considering it," he responded honestly, face contemplative before realizing that there was probably a reason the Turk had spoken to him. His expression changed solemnly.

"Were you looking for me? Is something wrong?"

Tseng shook his head quickly, not wanting to alarm the other male. "No, everything's fine as far as I know," he answered, his eyes raking over the former General's face. He was again reminded of how he had been attracted to the man in the first place.

His eyes, though lacking the incredibly bright glow of mako now, were no less alluring than before. No matter how much Sephiroth appeared cold on the outside, he could never completely hide from showing his emotion in those gray-green orbs. His features were delicately androgynous, but held a subtle hardening, that of a warrior, a man bathed in blood time and time again, who could kill without a second thought. Tseng was certain the same hardness reflected on his own.

Sephiroth nodded distractedly, brow furrowed in slight confusion. "Then were you--"

"I wanted to apologize," Tseng blurted hastily, not wanting to delay his words any longer. Besides, he wasn't normally one for timidity and wasn't about to start now.

As Sephiroth's gaze slid to him, he continued, "For my actions earlier. They were uncalled for."

Something flashed in gray-green orbs that Tseng could not identify before the taller male looked away from him, gaze drawn to the darkening sky, quickly becoming overcast.

"I see," he responded succinctly, seeming disappointed but it was difficult for Tseng to tell. His fingers subtly curled around the railing. "Was there anything else?"

The Turk was quiet for a moment as he considered the options in his mind before deciding against apologizing for his failure. They were both men of war and battle; there was no need to bring up things as such as that. Sephiroth had probably not even thought about it, even if Tseng felt the lingering guilt. It was something that would be fruitless to offer confessions for.

He shook his head. "No, that was everything."

Again, that look of disappointment crossed Sephiroth's features, though he remained stony silent and still. Tseng sighed inwardly and turned to leave, assuming that perhaps it was best if Sephiroth were alone. He didn't seem to want any company. Tseng pushed down his own discontent and took a step towards the door. He had to speak to Reeve about ShinRa anyways.

He hadn't moved more than a couple steps when Sephiroth's voice floated out behind him. "Wait," the former General called, somewhat hesitantly.

Tseng shifted towards him. "Yes?"

"You apologized," Sephiroth responded slowly, letting go of the railing and putting his back to the horizon as he looked at Tseng. "Does that mean you… regret it?" His face held the faint tinge of embarrassment that Tseng couldn't help but find absolutely endearing, that was until the implications of Sephiroth's question hit him.

Silver eyes widened slightly. "No, it doesn't," he answered quickly, realizing that Sephiroth was just as lost as he in that moment. Neither of them truly knew what to do around the other, wanting to speak but losing the words, wanting to ask but fearing to overstep boundaries. It was time someone took the initiative.

Riskily, Tseng closed the distance between them by a step, until Sephiroth was close enough to touch. He instantly noticed the subtleties; the slight flaring of Sephiroth's nostrils, the tentative widening of his eyes, the hitch of his breath and something akin to anticipation flashing through his gaze. Licking his lips and swallowing thickly, Tseng reached up and gently pressed his hand to the back of Sephiroth's head. Locking gazes with the other man for a moment, he ended the distance and brought their lips together in a sensual kiss.

Sephiroth stiffened at first, unaccustomed to the nearness of others, before he relented the kiss, lips slowly parting. Tseng took the opportunity to slide his tongue within, teasing gently with Sephiroth's. The former General's hands clenched at his sides briefly before slowly uncoiling and rising, settling on Tseng's hips as if unsure whether he was allowed to venture anywhere else.

The Turk pressed closer to his captive, his body thrumming with desire as he deepened the kiss, thoroughly enjoying Sephiroth's taste. His free hand slid around the other male's waist, pulling their bodies together. Tseng took an unconscious step forward, pinning Sephiroth between him and the railing as his lips and tongue worked slowly against Sephiroth's, weaving him into a spell of need and desire.

Tseng's arousal began to slowly fill in his pants, driven by the somewhat needy and most likely unconscious noises pouring from Sephiroth's throat. His fingers trailed lightly through darkened, once silver strands and he idly wondered if he was dreaming. Because this time, there was no alcohol to hide behind and this time, Sephiroth wasn't even trying to pull away. His fingers pressed into Sephiroth's spine, their bodies pressed flush together. He didn't want to end but knew that it must.

Though he wanted to continue kissing Sephiroth, Tseng knew that there were some things that needed to be cleared up. He reluctantly ended the kiss and looked up into Sephiroth's eyes, pleased to find that they were desire-clouded. It warmed his heart, not to mention that the painful buzz of oscillating negativity on the back of his head had been replaced by the subtle hum of Sephiroth's pleasure.

"I want you," he spoke quietly yet bluntly, not wanting to talk around in circles anymore. "And I have for a long time. If this is out of bounds, let me know now because I don't know if I can stop."

His fingers seemed to move of their own accord, thumb brushing across Sephiroth's cheek. Grey-green eyes widened slightly and a light blush stained the other male's cheeks. His gaze slid to the side, somewhat embarrassed.

"It's not," he responded quietly, hand unconsciously tightening on Tseng's hips. "I want you as well but..."

Something inside Tseng warmed even further and he felt the urge to kiss the former General once more. But he refrained in an effort to finish the conversation. Besides, he understood completely what Sephiroth was trying to say. He had gathered as much, from their previous conversation and hints given by Zack that Sephiroth had never been in a relationship before. For that matter, neither had Tseng truthfully. A string of meaningless one night stands and cold encounters could not be counted as a relationship. Honestly, he was as lost as Sephiroth when it came to such matters.

"You have no idea what you are doing," Tseng finished for him, smiling when Sephiroth faintly blushed.

The former General's gaze slid to the side. "Correct," he responded, trying his best not to come off as a shy schoolgirl or something equally mortifying. He was a SOLDIER who could kill without a second thought, but physical intimacies were beyond his current understanding.

"Would you be willing to try?" the Turk asked, unconsciously pushing his hips closer and smirking when he felt something hard in return. It seemed he wasn't the only one affected by their encounter and his blood stirred at the thought.

Sephiroth was contemplative for a moment before taking some initiative. He refused to be the one sitting on the side, not making his own choices. Instead of verbally responding however, he leaned forward and ended the distance between he and Tseng. His lips closed over the Turk's, sliding his tongue quickly into the other's mouth and mimicking Tseng's earlier actions. He was a prodigy after all, and learned rather quickly.

Tseng quickly succumbed to the kiss, a low moan rattling in his throat at Sephiroth's initiative. He pressed even closer, their bodies rubbing together as his hand curled tighter around Sephiroth's waist, wishing he could simply crawl inside of the former General's body. He had never needed so desperately before, never been so aroused by a simple and clumsy kiss. He had never wanted so badly in his entire life and it showed with the desperate way he practically consumed Sephiroth's mouth.

The former General was no less affected. Though he had no clue as to what he was supposed to do, he reacted completely on instinct. His hands clenched and unclenched where they had settled on Tseng's hips, tightening as if he needed something cling to. He could feel the evidence of Tseng's longing nudging against his own. His heart thrummed in his chest, beating a fierce beat.

Tanned fingers tangled in dyed hair, massaging Sephiroth's scalp before abruptly releasing his head and sliding downwards, wriggling its way between their bodies. Tseng's hand teased at the seam of Sephiroth's jeans, hesitating at the band before taking the risk. He slipped his hand beneath the soft cotton of Sephiroth's shirt and splayed his fingers over the pale, washboard stomach.

The SOLDIER's belly jerked in surprise beneath his touch but Tseng continued doggedly, his chilly touch warmed by the other male's flesh. He heard Sephiroth's breath hitch as he pressed him against the railing, somewhat mimicking the first time they had ever kissed.

Sephiroth was lost, drowning in every movement and touch. Tseng's fingers were spread hot flashes across his skin wherever he touched and he practically burned beneath his skin. He knew he wanted something, anything, as a part of him began to ache, shivers spreading up and down his spine. It was moving fast, probably too fast, but another, deeper part of him didn't want to stop for any reason at all. Especially when the Turk's hand slid further upwards, fingers brushing over a nipple.

The former General moaned low in his throat at the unexpected touch, his body arching forward and closer to Tseng's. He opened his mouth wider, allowing Tseng to deepen their kiss and losing himself in a haze of pleasure. Everything that he had been brooding on flitted away, pushing itself to the far reaches of his mind where it no longer mattered for the present moment.

Above them, the sky rumbled ominously but neither male appeared to notice or even care. A brief cold wind tugged at their clothes, whipping hair around their faces. Tseng continued to brush his fingers over Sephiroth's nipple, the flesh tightening into a nub beneath his ministrations.

And then it began to rain.

Fat and heavy droplets splashed down onto them as lightning flashed a fair distance away, but still close enough to startle them. Tseng broke away from the kiss, muttering a curse at fate under his breath. He reluctantly detangled from Sephiroth, wincing when a fat raindrop slid into his own eye. Where the storm had come from, he had no clue.

Sephiroth was somewhat dazed as he mechanically adjusted his clothing, regarding the storm with some confusion, as if he had never seen it rain before.

"We should go inside before either of us get sick," Tseng murmured, watching longingly as pale skin disappeared beneath the appealing white shirt. Though, the glimpse of pink, hardened nipples beneath was just as enticing.

Sephiroth flushed a little under the intent stare but managed to retain some command of his senses. He nodded in agreement and the two males quickly made their way across the roof, entering into the building just as another loud rumble of thunder boomed above them. Within, they shook their heads, staring miserably as water beaded from their clothes and hair.

"I hate the rain," Tseng grumbled under his breath, attempting to wring water from his hair and not caring that he was soaking the floor beneath him. It always seemed that there was something to interrupt them, not that he planned on simply screwing his new boyfriend he supposed was the best word for it, on the roof. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

Sephiroth watched his actions with some amusement, his own disappointment obvious. "It was unfortunate," he responded, flushing slightly when silver eyes raised to him, watching him intently.

He was prevented from having to say anything else witty when the door to their left opened, admitting one of the Fort's residents carrying several towels in her hands.

"I thought you might be needing these," she commented softly, handing them over as a faint flush brushed her cheeks.

Sephiroth accepted the fluffy, black cloth that she handed over, marveling at the coincidence. Tseng, however, was certain that a devious, blond subordinate of his had something to do with it. He couldn't shake the feeling that she had probably spied on them.

The female bowed and left them alone, still dripping on the floor but rubbing towels over their soaked heads. An awkward silence ensued, sexual tension reverberating in the air. Tseng's erection throbbed in his pants, wanting some sort of gratification.

Then an idea. "I hear Fort Condor has a fully stocked training center," Sephiroth offered somewhat tentatively, at a loss for anything better to say. Besides, he would need the training center to be stocked, his weapon had vanished with Gilgamesh and he hadn't procured a suitable replacement.

Tseng raised a brow. "We never did get to start our duel," he added, thinking back to when Vincent had interrupted them.

He rubbed his towel over his head, wringing out most of the moisture from the rain, which was still steadily falling outside. "Are you up for one?" he asked.

The Turk could only smile in response, recognizing it as a way to ease out his frustrations even if he would have to resort to his hand later. "Of course. Lead the way," he responded. As if he would say no to spending some alone time with Sephiroth.

* * *

"Nooo, Nanaki! That was my card!"

"Too slow, Yufs!"

There was a growl of anger. The sound of another card slapping down to the table with a sharp thump. "Hah! Beat that!"

Snap! Whish!

"It's not over yet!"

Tensions rose even higher, twin looks of concentration settled into the best friend's faces.

"Hurry! Deal 'em out!"

"…"

Total and complete attentiveness. The race was on now. This was it, the final moment. Nanaki sucked in a deep breath. He had only one more card, just one and then--

"Mwa ha ha! You lose!" Yuffie crowed, jumping to her feet and pumping both fists into the air. "That's three times, 'Aki!" She stuck out one hand, gesturing towards him. "Come on, hand it over."

The demi-human frowned and attempted a pout that didn't quite work so well. "I don't understand," he griped as he leaned back against the headboard, digging into his pocket to produce his second favorite materia, a fully mastered Fire that had mysteriously regained its magical glow not too long ago. He reluctantly dropped it into her hand and watched as she reveled fiercely, eyes gleaming as she coveted the sphere.

Still, as much as he hated to lose it, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed seeing the wide smile on her face and the sparkle in her brown eyes. After the fight with her father, she had been carrying around a certain amount of weight on her shoulders and he could see the haunted emotions sometimes. It was worth it to simply see her happy. He had never expected that she would be so damn good at Speed though he should have known it considering how well she could steal materia.

Nanaki sighed. "Do you have to gloat so loudly?" he asked teasingly, relaxing against the hard wood behind him.

They had been sitting on his bed, playing card games for the last hour since there was really nothing better to do. Yuffie was still too injured for anything like training.

Her smile was wide enough to split mountains as she tucked the materia safely into her pocket and bounced back onto the bed, sending cards scattering everywhere.

"Yes, I do," she answered matter-of-factly, a mischievous look on her face. "Do you have to be such a sore loser?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away with a pretend huff. "You're injured, you should be resting," he countered playfully, knowing that it would irk her to be accused of weakness.

There was a moment of silence before the bed dipped and a body suddenly hurled itself at him. Nanaki's breath whooshed out of his lungs as the weight clung to his chest and he whipped his head around, arms automatically falling around the smiling mess. Yuffie was frowning cutely at him, her face a mix of annoyance, mischief, and something else entirely as she straddled his thighs.

"I'm not that hurt," she protested with her usual Yuffie logic. "Just a scratch here and there." Her arms fell around his neck as she pressed her face close to his, causing his heart rate to pick up rapidly. She had been getting bolder lately, making it harder for him to resist.

The demi-human felt a slight flush taint his cheeks. "You get any closer and I might have to kiss you," he commented, slightly embarrassed by his own words.

"Well, maybe I want you to," she murmured before leaning forward and kissing her best friend softly. She could never quite get over the subtle change in their relationship. She didn't understand it, she didn't question it, but for now, was just going to accept things as they came. Besides, there was something infinitely satisfying about kissing him.

Nanaki was no less affected. He quickly took control of the kiss, sliding his tongue into Yuffie's mouth and tightening his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. His hand slid against her back, rubbing gently and carefully over the bandages wrapped around her body. Her warmth was a welcome presence in his arms, her form soft and unyielding.

Her hand teased at the back of his neck, trailing against the hairs that grew there and sending a shiver up his spine. She moved against him in a decidedly sensual manner that severely tested his restraint, even if he were moving by instinct alone. Her tongue mischievously darted against his teeth, flicking across his pointed fangs as if flirting with danger before moving to duel with his own tongue.

Nanaki groaned, a low rumble low in his throat. Or at least he thought it was a groan. It wasn't until Yuffie broke away from the kiss with a smile on her face that he realized he was mistaken. She pulled back slightly, poking at his belly with a finger.

"Hungry?" she teased, poking him again.

He flushed to the tip of his ears. "Perhaps a little," the demi-human responded with slight embarrassment. What an awful time for his stomach to grumble.

She laughed at him, wriggling slightly in his lap which didn't make things any better. "We should go find some food then. You're still growing," she teased, poking at him again.

Golden eyes rolled. "And you're hopeless," he countered, sliding his hands up and down Yuffie's sides.

She shivered at his touch, emitting an unconscious sigh before leaning forward and laying her head on his shoulder. Silence filled the small room, broken only by the sound of loud laughter as someone passed in the hallway.

"What are you going to do now?" Yuffie asked softly, disturbing the quiet. "I mean, Cosmo Canyon is in the middle of rebuilding and well…" she trailed off, not wanting to remind her best friend that he had lost his only family member.

He shrugged off-handedly, turning his head slightly and burying his face in her dark hair. He faintly smelled citrus bath soap, which brought a smile to his lips. "I haven't really thought about it. Suzaku had promised to help me find my clan but now, I can't really see that happening."

The ninja stiffened momentarily at the mention of his clan, but forced herself to relax. It was an entirely selfish reason that she was so selfish about it and wasn't going to point out the issue to him.

"I'm not going back to Wutai," she responded. "So wherever you go, I'll go, too."

Nanaki frowned. "You'll regret it if you don't make up with your father," he responded quietly. "He's your only family."

"I don't care," she said stubbornly. "He insulted you and tried to force me to marry that stupid Uryuu. I won't do it."

He sighed but didn't press the issue. "Perhaps I'll explore the caves some more. I have the feeling the answers may be there."

"How right you are, child of the flame." The voice echoed out of the stillness, surprising both of them with its presence.

Yuffie pulled away from Nanaki, immediately leaping into a defensive position whereas the demi-human was utterly calm, recognizing the voice.

His eyes darted to their left, near to the door where the air seemed to be shimmering. It pulsed and throbbed seconds before a familiar form appeared in a fiery sparkle, a trace of a smile on her ageless and beautiful face.

"Hello, Nanaki," Suzaku commented softly before her eyes flickered to Yuffie. "And to you as well, Yuffie."

The ninja's shoulders sagged as if disappointed there would be no fight and flopped back down onto the bed. "Hey, Suzaku. I thought you guys weren't coming to Gaia anymore."

The demi-goddess nodded and stepped gracefully forward, flickering a lock of bright red hair from her eyes. "That was Kami's decree, yes. But I had one last thing that I must do before I can merely fall into the fold as a guardian." Her calm gaze fell on her animus, softening immediately. "I made you a promise, didn't I?"

Nanaki nodded before moving to slide from the bed, swinging his long legs over the side of it. "You said you knew where to find my clan, that I wasn't the last of them."

"That's right." Stepping forward, Suzaku held out her hand in a closed fist, gesturing for him to accept what was in her hold. "They are beyond the barrier in the caves beneath Cosmo Canyon. You will need this to break it."

Golden eyes shimmered with unexpected emotion as he lifted up a hand and watched as something dropped into his open palm. It greatly resembled the charm on his necklace, though the design was a bit different than the one around his neck. His gaze fell to the object, which looked as if it had been carved from a materia, a Destruct materia for that matter. Only, since it was not sphere shaped, it could not be equipped.

"How do I use it?" he breathed, lifting his eyes back to his anima.

She smiled. "You cannot control the transformations, correct?" she asked, and when he nodded, she continued. "That is because you were missing a piece. I do not know where the original is but I had another made for you. They are two parts of the whole, fitting together like pieces of the puzzle. It is my final gift, child of the flame. Use it well."

The demi-human frowned slightly, not quite understanding what he was supposed to do with it. The look of confusion caused Suzaku to chuckle lightly before reaching forward and drawing her animus into a hug, embracing him warmly.

"I regret being unable to look after you, but should you need me, do not hesitate to call," she murmured before pulling away and kissing him lightly on the forehead. "I have since learned that some rules are meant to be broken."

With that, she drew back from Nanaki and put some space between the two of them. Nanaki was somewhat troubled, his fingers closing around the object. Suzaku's eyes shifted towards Yuffie, the smile remaining on her lips.

"Watch after him, ne?" she asked of the ninja. "He is still just a kid."

When the demi-human spluttered indignantly, she merely smiled and promptly twinkled out of existence, leaving the two alone in the room. In her absence, Nanaki's eyes again fell to the item as he drew it near to his body and examined it more closely. It almost looked as if it would fit into something.

Yuffie bounded over the table with more agility than an injured person should have, her gaze glinting excitedly at the look of the materia. "Wow," she breathed, reaching out to touch it. "It's beautiful."

Nanaki nodded distractedly, a bit of excitement beginning to rise within him. "It is. And once Cosmo Canyon is well on its way to rebuilding, I'm going to test it." He smiled then, a true smile different than what Yuffie had been privy to seeing in quite some time. "Do you want to help me?"

Again, she fought down the fear and jealousy. She didn't want to lose her friend, but didn't want to see him unhappy either. So for him, she would pretend she wasn't hurt in the slightest. She forced a smile onto her face.

"Of course, 'Aki," she declared. "You know I'm there for you."

He grinned widely, throwing his arms over her shoulders and drawing her into a close hug. "I knew I could count on you." He failed to catch the look on his best friend's face, both the disappointment and the worry. Yuffie could only cling tighter to him and hide her face before he discovered the truth.

She didn't want to worry him, after all.

* * *

The sizzle of oil in a pan and eggs cracking over the edge was a quiet noise in the background as light laughter echoed in the rather expansive kitchen. Archer listened to it all with only half an ear, ignoring the jibes and taunts that Reno was throwing his way for being a man who knew his way around the kitchen. He continued to cook eggs as he had offered, one elbow nudging aside the other food he had already made that was just waiting to be served. It wasn't his fault that Reeve was hungry and had given his former subordinate a pleading look to feed his aching belly. Not to mention _no one_ was interested in whatever Reno _thought _he could cook aka create.

"You would make the perfect little housewife," Reno teased, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table. "I just need to get you a frilly apron, you know the kind with red hearts and lace, yo."

Amethyst eyes narrowed yet Archer took it all in stride. He sniffed somewhat haughtily and shook his spatula at the Tuesti sister. "Well, if Reis wouldn't attempt to burn down the kitchen I'd make her do it."

The amber-eyed female shook her head. "Don't blame this on me, Kyle. You offered, remember? Besides, I can't help it I'm no good in the kitchen."

"That's what you get for having servants," Reno offered, shooting her a lazy grin. "It makes you inept."

"Big words for a small brain," Reis shot back with an equally amusing smile.

Reeve could only shake his head at all three of them, the lot were really children, he was certain of it. It didn't matter that Archer was probably older than all of them, even if he only had Reeve himself beat by a little over a week. Still, the shadows that had haunted his friend's eyes lately could not be mistaken and Reeve was glad that he could see a smile on Archer's face.

A hand touched his arm and Reeve turned his attention to his sister at his side, albeit a bit slowly since he was still sore all over his body. He had woken from his coma but hadn't completely healed.

"What?" he asked as Archer and Reno continued to trade jibes in the background.

"You wanted to speak to all of us, didn't you?" Reis asked, a warm smile on her face. "Isn't that why you limped down to the kitchen, even if you were also hungry?"

At her words, it was as if a command for silence had been uttered. All bickering went silent as they swiveled their heads towards him.

"Right, babe. And Rude couldn't make it because he's cuddling with Shera." Winking brightly, Reno continued, "I promised to keep him updated."

Amber eyes rolled. "I just wanted to discuss our plans for ShinRa Corporation and the future." Reeve looked around, missing his usual calm and stoic presence. "I was hoping Tseng would be here."

Knowing eyes, which was everyone in the room outside of the President himself, exchanged glances before Archer let loose a deep chuckle. "Tseng is otherwise occupied," he explained, shooting his former boss a look. "And if I were him, I would skip this meeting for that any day."

Reeve blinked in confusion as he eyed the others, easily detecting that there was something going on no one had bothered to share. "Is this something I don't know about?" he asked, unable to remember if anything significant had happened to his close friend.

"You can't help that you're oblivious," Reno teased, leaning close to his lover and entwining their fingers together, still wanting to keep close to his husband after what had happened. "Do you even know what Elena's been up to?"

The President shook his head, shifting slightly in his seat. "With everything that has been happening lately, how would I?"

Archer couldn't help but laugh. "It's nothing but a little romance, Reeve. Tseng was eying Sephiroth for a long time and you know how Elena gets when she chooses her prey."

Reeve's mouth opened then closed just as promptly as he seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he shook his head and took a breath, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

"No one ever tells me anything," he muttered under his breath before continuing, "We'll just have to go on without them then."

Plates began to clatter to the table as Archer served everyone, setting before them scrambled eggs and bacon. It was a simple meal, but enough to feed their hungry bellies.

"What are your plans?" Archer asked as he set out the last of the food and took one of the empty seats.

The President picked up his fork and scooped up some of the cheese-covered eggs. "I want to disband ShinRa, consolidating all of its assets and creating the WRO," he explained slowly, enthusiasm beginning to peak through his tone as he continued, "The world has been damaged extensibly, with almost fifty percent of all living areas destroyed beyond recognition. A large corporation isn't needed, but something else."

Reis furrowed her brow. "The WRO? What exactly is it? What does it do?"

"The World Regenesis Organization," Reeve answered with a smile. "It will be dedicated to rebuilding what has been destroyed. All soldiers employed by ShinRa will be offered jobs in the WRO with only one mission, to protect and serve the people. It's about time that ShinRa's money did some good."

Aquamarine eyes sparkled with admiration and love. "Just like you always wanted, huh?" Reno questioned, shooting his husband a warm look.

Reeve nodded. "Yes. I originally created the reactors as a way to help people, but as with all things that ShinRa got their hands on, in the end they only hurt others. Now, I can make amends. And I hope that you guys are willing to help me."

"Of course!" Archer responded, shaking his head. "As if I'd say no. And I'm pretty sure that Tseng, Elena, and Rude feel the same way. WRO sounds like a great idea; I'm not surprised you came up with it."

The President had to fight to keep his cheeks from reddening. While not prone to random acts of blushing, it was rare that someone praised him for his work, his parents words still a lingering disappointment.

"I appreciate it everyone," he replied honestly. "I didn't think I could do it on my own."

Reis grinned. "No problem, big brother." Suddenly, her smile turned mischievous. "Now, wasn't there something else you wanted to discuss?"

He nodded and turned to his husband. "Are you sure, Reno?" he asked softly, just loud enough for the other male to hear him and not the others, who were waiting patiently.

The Turk nodded, his smile warm as he squeezed Reeve's hand. "Yeah, I'm sure. I love you, Reeve."

"I love you, too, Reno."

Amethyst eyes rolled. "Sweethearts, the sugar is killing me," Archer declared with an overdramatic flourish, a teasing hint to his tone. "Don't keep us all in suspense."

In response, Reno socked him in the shoulder. "Don't be jealous."

"Come on, boys," Reis scolded playfully. "You're supposed to be adults. Besides, Reeve was in the middle of asking something. Right, brother?"

The President nodded. "You already know, Reis. I don't know why you insist on teasing." He shook his head before deciding to just jump right into it. "Would you be willing to surrogate for Reno and I?"

Amber eyes, nearly a mirror to his own, sparkled merrily. "Of course, Reeve. You didn't even have to ask." She grinned but it was entirely mischievous. "I can't wait to see the look on Mother and Father's faces."

Reeve groaned, sliding a hand over is face. "Don't remind me," he muttered, wanting to sink down in his chair. "I dread the very thought of it."

"Not that it matters," Reno said with a sniff. "We're going to go through with it whether they like it or not."

"And then we can all be one big, happy family, right?" Reis added, slinging her arms over both Reeve and Reno's shoulders.

"If only slightly insane," Archer added with a chuckle.

A general chorus of laughter echoed around the table.

* * *

"I knew I'd find you here."

Sephiroth startled slightly and whipped his head to the side, looking up with a faint flash of guilt on his face. His concentration left the book he had been perusing, directing itself towards the invading presence of his best friend.

"The war is over, the world is saved," Zack added with a saucy grin as he strode further into the library, maneuvering easily through the narrow aisles formed by the bookshelves, "And instead of finding you making out with Tseng, you are here, poring through dusty, ancient texts."

Pale cheeks reddened slightly as Sephiroth replaced the book in his hand back onto the shelf, shoved between two equally thick and difficult to comprehend texts. "Hojo did some research here," he explained quietly, a bit embarrassed by Zack's usual forwardness. "I was hoping to--"

"Seph!" Zack suddenly exclaimed, interrupting him before he could even finish his thought. Mischief sparkled in his gaze. "Did you get laid?"

Gray green eyes widened impossibly large as the faint hint of red deepened to a brightly visible crimson flush that spread across his nose and cheeks. "What?" the former General repeated, mouth unusually gape.

Yet, Zack was not to be deterred. His mouth stretched a mile wide into a grin as he shook his finger at his best friend. "Or something similar you sly dog. I know what that look means," he crowed.

He darted forward and before Sephiroth could escape him, he had the former General by the neck, using his elbow as leverage. His free hand ruffled the dyed strands wildly as he laughed, giving the older man a faintly electrified look. Predictably, Sephiroth resisted, trying to squirm free of Zack's unnaturally strong grip.

"Zack!" he protested loudly, attempting not to knock over the many stacks of books balanced precariously at their feet. "Grow up!"

"Never!" the spiky-haired man argued with a raucous laugh, echoing loudly and disturbing the silence of the library. Only, there was no grey-haired old lady to tell him to shush. No one manned the old collection of books and documents.

Sephiroth sighed and stopped struggling, knowing he had no choice but to endure. "You must have a little something to brag about as well," he commented, idly reaching up with one hand and trying to pat down his hair. "You're only this energetic when you've been with someone."

Blue eyes glinted mischievously as Zack pulled him into a tight hug, the affection from him Sephiroth was used to putting up with. "Right. We SOLDIER's can't keep our hands off the Turks, hmm?"

Faintly blushing, Sephiroth wriggled out of Zack's hold. "You never stop, do you?" he asked, only half serious as he nimbly edged out of Zack's reach and turned his eyes back to the bookcase he had been staring at earlier. His hands immediately reached for one that seemed promising, a ratty looking notebook with sheaves of paper poking out of the tops and sides.

"Why would I?" Zack asked, sobering slowly as he began to recognize the strange aura to the room. Sephiroth was acting oddly, not that he was usually bright and chipper. "Life gets boring if I try to be serious all the time," he continued, watching his best friend closely.

Sephiroth hummed distractedly, only half paying him attention as he flipped through the pages of what appeared to be a scientific journal. His eyes rapidly scanned the scrawled text, obviously looking for something important.

Crystalline eyes were curious. "Seph… what are you doing?"

"I overheard that Hojo once did research here. Not a lot of course, but also that he was using this place to store documents he no longer considered important." He leafed through a few other pages, wincing when a few ripped from age and neglect. "There might be something here."

Zack frowned, an uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach. He had the most unsettling feeling of déjà vu. "Why?"

"It's something I have to do," Sephiroth answered succinctly, his lips pursing as he flipped to the back of the journal, reading through the acknowledgments and sources. "The world is saved and now I have no place. I have to know... without the madness and the burning of someone's home."

Well, that was reassuring.

"What are you going to do?" Zack asked, incredibly worried since Sephiroth hadn't talked to him about any of this. He was used to knowing everything there was to know about his best friend, but now he had the disconcerting worry that there were some secrets he had never understood.

The former General shook his head. "I don't know." He sighed, snapping the book shut and staring helplessly at the many other volumes scattered around the shelves before turning somewhat sad gray-green eyes towards his best friend.

"I'm afraid, Zack. Of the things I don't know about myself. My memories, the ones that Persephone unlocked… there were images that I thought were only nightmares that might well be true."

Fear and Sephiroth were never two things that had gone hand in hand in Zack's mind. He frowned, uncomfortable with the strange fluttering of feelings around.

"Like what?"

A moment passed before Sephiroth immediately closed up, shutting down everything to Zack's perusal. He shook his head. "

It's hard to say. But I don't think I can move on until I find out something. About Hojo… my past… what he's done to me…"

Zack crossed his arm over his chest, leaning against the bookcase. "Move on?"

The former General nodded and turned his haunted gaze back to the bookshelf, as if he could no longer to look into Zack's eyes. "It might be too much for someone like me to ask for but I owe it to him to at least try," he responded quietly.

He tilted his head to the side, somewhat confused, before a revelation suddenly struck him. "You're talking about Cloud, aren't you?"

A strange look crossed Sephiroth's face as he watched Zack from the corner of his eye. "You knew, didn't you? That Cloud was in love with me?"

"Yes," Zack answered honestly. "But it wasn't my place to say anything."

The taller male sighed. "I know. Aeris told me that he trusted me, admired me even and how have I repaid him?" he asked rhetorically before answering his own query. "By failing miserably."

"Seph," Zack started, shaking his head. "You can't--"

"I can and I will," Sephiroth interrupted firmly, reaching for a couple of notebooks and stacking them into his arms for later reading. "Don't worry about me, Zack. You've done enough of that. I think you should live your life now without having to worry over me."

Zack frowned, not liking the other man's tone of voice. It sounded resigned. "You know I always have your back, Seph. That's not going to change."

His best friend turned towards him, face a careful and unreadable mask. The world is saved. We've no more need to battle," he commented. "It is safe to say that the world can dream again." A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips but it was empty. "That's all a person could ask for, right? It's what we fought for."

Zack was uncertain. "Right," he half-responded, watching as Sephiroth stepped past him and headed for the door to the library. He didn't miss the fact that his best friend had made no mention of his own happiness or dreams.

He shifted towards the other man's retreating form. "If you need me, you know you can just call," he offered, for some reason feeling as if he were losing something important.

Sephiroth paused in the doorway. "I know Zack, Thanks." Something flashed, falling in pools of glimmering green before Sephiroth was gone, leaving Zack alone in the library with a worried look on his face.

* * *

"Where the Wild Things Are" © Maurice Sendak.

To be continued in "Shattered Traditions" a Yuffie/Nanaki tale, with "Shattered Children" to follow.

* * *

Well, guys, this is the end of Shattered Dreams, but not the series! There's still two more fics to go before I can rest. Here's a little heads up for you. I'm attempting to write both ST and SC at the same time, we'll see how it goes. 

There will be a month long lag between this chapter and the first chapter I post of either Shattered Traditions or Shattered Children, whichever I manage to finish first. I want to get some other projects out of the way first. (Like finishing Desperate Reflections for instance.) In the meantime, feel free to check out any of the numerous original works I have available.

At this point, I'm estimating ST to be about ten chapters long, and SC to be about 30. We'll see how it goes once I finally start writing them.

All right, for those _still _confused by what has happened, feel free to contact me with an e-mail and what not. If it's something I don't plan on explaining in the sequels and/or you don't mind spoilers, I will be happy to answer your questions.

Phew! I think that's everything. Thanks guys, for sticking with me through this monster of a fic! I look forward to reading your concluding comments and I return to work on the sequels!

Draco-sama


End file.
